


The First Time

by Delibirdette



Category: Free!, Free! Eternal Summer - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, First Love, Friendship/Love, Heavy Angst, Implied Relationships, Lots of plot, M/M, Neurological Disorders, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot, Plot Twists, Relationship(s), Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:15:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2835968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delibirdette/pseuds/Delibirdette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If the theories are true, and there is reason why I experience all this...<br/>what colors make me excited or nervous, happy or worried,<br/>the smells that leave me giddy one moment, and hysterical the next,<br/>the little things that fill me with so much love that I forget where I am, or too stubborn to want to let go.<br/>Makoto...<br/>I know that you are the reason I feel all this.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. SIDE A: Homeless Sharks

The tape recorder was activated with the gentle ‘click’ of a button. The boy brought it to his mouth, whispering into the speaker. Carefully, quietly, as if he was going to murmur it a secret, with a voice softer than silk and calmer than the eye of any storm,

“It’s 3:30 on the 15th. If I hadn’t just listened to what I recorded for you yesterday, I wouldn’t have remembered what I’ve told you.”

Gentle wind rolled around him, rustling his dark raven-colored hair in the breeze. Navy eyes dark with an emotion undefinable looked up to the sky. At the clouds that were slowly making their way towards the mountains, dark and murky. The young man sighed, then carried on with his recording, closing his eyes so that the gloomy grey atmosphere around him could not bother him.

“My memory is getting worse...” He confessed, “Did I mention that before, too? And yet, I still remember your name...”

“Haru!”

Blue eyes snapped open again, sharply glancing around to see the figure that had called to him. That had interrupted him. Although annoyed, the young man knew better than to call the other out on it. It didn’t really matter, anyway. Haruka stood up from where he sat on the bench, walking over to the redhead that had summoned him over.

A smile flashed onto the other’s face. A smile of reassurance, brightening his expression despite the feeling of worry he was sure to have been feeling, nestled deep in his chest. But Rin tried to act lighthearted and joyous as Haruka stepped closer, like if he made a wrong move, a wrong face, the raven-haired male would run away skittishly.

Rin’s eyes momentarily lit up; a sign that he was about to say something of the non-serious variety. “Nice weather today, isn’t it?” He hummed, sarcastically. When Haruka didn’t respond, he continued, “Although the last time I felt a wind pick up like this, I saw a fish fly towards the mountain.”

Haruka just looked at him, obviously unamused. “Your jokes are horrible,” He muttered.

“Shut up,” Rin poked him playfully on the nose, causing Haruka to tilt his head back. “You do one, then,” He jeered.

Haruka cleared his throat. “A dolphin, a penguin, and an orca all agree to help a shark get home...–” At the sound of light chuckling, the raven-haired male stopped, deadpan, save for the irritated twitch of an eyebrow. “You can’t laugh yet. I haven’t finished my joke.”

Rin only grinned, shaking his head with teasing disapproval.

“You idiot~! Sharks don’t have homes.”

 

* * *

 

“The dizziness and forgetfulness are normal side effects for the medicine he’s taking,” Said the doctor to Rin, pushing up his red-framed glasses as if he had any authority in this field that he should be proud of. “But it’s all we can do. We’ve never seen this kind of condition before. Well... conditions of this intensity. It is very different from the usual myasthenia gravis.”

The redhead pulled a puzzled crinkle of a brow, eyes shining with doubt and fear. He glanced over at Haruka, who was sitting on the hospital bench, staring off into space out the window. Completely unaware. No doubt this news brought Rin nothing but dread for his friend’s future; couldn’t Haruka even _pretend_ to care about his own health issues?

Rin sighed, shaking his head clear of those thoughts. “There has to be something,” He said, mostly to himself than to the doctor standing beside him who pushed his glasses up again.

“He is to refrain from any physical exertion,” Came the reply; urgent and insistent, almost eager. “As you know, respiratory paralysis is very dangerous and can be fatal if it is neglected to use caution.”

“I know, I know.. You don’t have to remind me,” Barked a nervous growl. After a few years, Haruka might not be able to walk... or move his arms, mouth, or even open his eyes. But the most prominent thing to worry about was most certainly the idea that his lungs would completely give way. He would not be able to breathe, betrayed by the faulty lungs he was born with. That he was forced to live with. The thought was terrifying. Rin shifted uncomfortably where he stood, waiting for more news, which the professional then gave him.

“Even though his memory is proving faulty, he’s  improving, albeit slowly. I say we increase the dosage.”

This news was like a song to the redhead’s ears. He was improving! Rin looked back at the boy on the bench again, happier this time, almost relieved, only to find Haruka hadn’t even moved from the few seconds those crimson eyes hadn’t been focused on him. The raven-haired male sighed, bored, and closed his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

A few years back, Haruka had been a highschool student. Average, quiet, and keeping to himself most of the time, his life in school was one that could be considered normal. When he tried, his grades weren’t horrible, but he did have a tendency to space out and look out the window, his face expressionless, as if he was completely lost in his own little world and nobody else was allowed in. But there had been one factor – one person – that had managed to come into the antisocial boy’s life, his _world_ , who left a big imprint. A stain that couldn’t be washed away.

His name was Tachibana Makoto. Tall and sturdy, with fluffy honey-brown hair and the biggest, sweetest smile one could even imagine. Green eyes that were always patient and gentle. On top of that, he was undeniably handsome as well, which made him quite the discussion topic among the girls in the school. Makoto had always made a point of sitting beside Haruka; getting to know him in any and all classes they had together. As quiet as Haruka tended to be, this didn’t seem to bother Makoto. Instead, it only made him more curious, even more eager to jump into this smaller boy’s life and maybe even splash around in it. Perhaps it was because of this that they seemed to hit it off right away.

All throughout highschool, they stuck together. Like two peas to a pod, rust to a slab of old metal, glitter to a strand of hair, a fly to it’s trap; whatever horrible and clichè analogy you can think of, that was probably their relationship. And it was as beautiful as any movie portrayed young love to be. Makoto had bewitched Haruka enough to get him to open up. To come out of his shell. To actually speak to the world. To feel all kinds of things that the raven-haired male hadn’t ever felt before. To learn to love. This was all Makoto’s doing.

But then, Makoto disappeared.

It was senior year, and Haruka’s teachers were the ones to do the explaining. Makoto had transferred from their school without a word. Without any warning. It was like he had just decided to stand up and vanish from their lives forever. But where had he gone?

Not even Haruka knew.

Distraught and left with a heart even more hollow than before, Haruka was left isolated and alone once again. He had looked everywhere, from every inch of that school’s perimeter to the bench on the beach they had always sat on. From the trees and the hills, from the old abandoned house Makoto’s parents used to live in, to even his own room. Haruka made sure to check, double-check, and triple-check Makoto’s old school desk, waiting – _pleading –_ for a sign that he was there. A note. A little doodle. A stick of gum plastered to the bottom. Anything. But there was nothing. And there would be nothing for the rest of his highschool experience. As time passed, Haruka felt even more desperate and heartbroken as he realized that Makoto really had gone away. It was like something precious to him, something that had nestled it’s way into Haruka’s rather distant and stubborn heart, had been ripped away from him. Stripping him of the only thing that made him feel warm at night, warmer than any blanket.

That was when disaster really struck. One day, Haruka found himself collapsed on the school hallway floor, hardly able to breathe. His lungs were surely quitting on him. Many strangers looked at him, but carried on without a second thought. If it hadn’t have been for Rin, who had been walking around trying to avoid his next class, Haruka probably wouldn’t have survived the sudden spasm. One 119 call and a visit to the emergency room later, the raven-haired male had been diagnosed with a nervous system failure in his lungs.

After that scare, Rin was convinced that he couldn’t leave Haru’s side. Haruka lived alone, after all, without anyone home to make sure he wouldn’t have another episode. That technically made Rin something close to a guardian, didn’t it? But he didn’t mind. All he worried about was finding a way to keep Haruka safe and living and breathing another day. He set up doctor’s appointments on the regular, juggling taking Haruka places, studying for college, and working out, in, or nearby the pool. Haruka would watch him swim, but because of his disease, Rin wouldn’t ever allow the raven-haired male to join him. It was just too dangerous.

So, Haruka’s life had gone from a wonderful and romantic life in highschool to a depressed and medicated state in college. To cope with it all, he had found an old two-sided tape recorder, using it as both an oral journal and a series of letters that he prayed one day Makoto would be able to hear. Because all he could ever think about was the boy that had been torn from his arms violently. The boy that had actually softened his defensive shell, only to then teach him how to cry.

The boy that he loved unconditionally.

 

* * *

 

Normally, children don’t approach Haruka due to his lack of social skills and facial expression. To them, an antisocial teen and his silence was creepy and overall not fun to be around. But at where the raven-haired male was standing then, the kids couldn’t tell the difference between him and any other person. The reason behind that was most likely the fact that his default, deadpan look was hiding behind a cheery-looking dolphin mask.

Haruka worked at the nearby water park. To make easy money to support his house and medical bills, he took on the awkward and ‘so-sad-it’s-funny’ job that was just a touch better than the park janitor: One of the park mascots. If you were to ask him why he had chosen this to be his moneymaker, Haruka would point you to Rin. It was his fault, after all; being the guy in the shark suit, it was easy to pull the raven-haired male into work with him during the same shift. Again, they needed something to pay the bills, and when you find a job that’s so ridiculous it takes a special kind of self-patience... it just works for them, miraculously.

The job was okay. Haruka could live with the absurdity of putting on a big, bulky costume and walking around the park for hours on end. The worst part about it was the flash of mild embarrassment and injured pride that came to Haruka knowing that behind that shark head, Rin’s sharp teeth were glinting in an amused smirk despite himself.

The weather had brightened up since that morning, the clouds that remained were similar to wisps of white cotton candy on the sky. No more tense, thick fog, and that worked _exceptionally_ well for business. It was just any normal day, and towards the end of their shift, the special guest’s concert was preparing to start. Haruka couldn’t remember who it was that was supposed to be performing; some rock band, was it? It had something to do with whales, right?

As Rin and Haruka were about to leave the park for the day, the two of them could hear the sudden blare of electric guitar sliding through the air. The redhead took this opportunity to glance over at the other male, his sparkling expression doing the talking for him. Even so, he still voiced the question that really didn’t need to be asked, saying something along the lines of “Can we go see?”

With nothing more than a defeated sigh from Haruka, the two were walking towards the source of the sound.

 

* * *

 

The band was way too noisy, in Haruka’s opinion. Although Rin really enjoyed this type of music, the raven-haired male couldn’t help but feel on edge the entire time. Out of the four guys in the group, three of them were proving to have musical faults: The drummer was way too reckless, the guitarist didn’t seem to switch chords fast enough for the beat, and the lead singer would have been fine if he didn’t scream so close to the microphone. The fourth one was the back-up vocalist that also played a little guitar here and there. His playing was good, but Haruka wasn’t sure how to judge his voice due to the fact the lead singer was too loud for anybody to _hear_ his supposed ‘back-up’. (Another thing to take note of was the fact that they all wore different whale hats.)

Even with these flaws, the crowd was still enjoying it, and most of them had stuck around for the encore. Haruka was sitting alone, however, guarding both his and Rin’s stuff as Rin had to go to the bathroom. The guitarist did his starting chord, and the drummer hit his drumsticks to their tempo, just like it was any other song that they had done that day.

That was when things got a little bit messy.

It was a rather comedic turn of events that occurred. A chain reaction that could have been easily missed if one blinked at the wrong time. Getting too excited from the adrenaline flooding to his brain, the lead singer slipped and kicked the guitarist’s amplifier, sending it spiraling off the stage. The guitar was ripped out of the guy’s hands, and fell to the cement pavement on top of the amp, possibly breaking one or both items. There was a loud screeching sound as the microphones picked up static, and the music came to an abrupt halt.

But that wasn’t all. The lead’s microphone tipped over in the commotion as well, and landed right on top of a large pile of conveniently-stationed animal crates, opening several of them. A pair of doves flew to the skies together, followed by the appearance of a rabbit hopping onto the stage. This had all happened so fast, that only now was the whale band reacting and trying to stop any more mishaps or breakages. The audience started reacting at that same time as well, and Haruka heard one or two of them scream.

That may have been the reason why both Haruka the rabbit then grew startled. As the raven stood up and prepared to leave, not wanting anything to do with this, the creature quickly targeted him and leaped down into the audience, landing fearfully into his arms.

He stared down at the rabbit he was now suddenly holding, tense in surprise. Out of both speechlessness and a rush of sudden nerves, Haruka hiccupped, causing him and the rabbit to bounce together slightly. It was a small reaction, completely insignificant, yet it didn’t go unnoticed.

The back-up vocalist looked at him quizzically for a moment. He looked oddly shocked, with his mouth slowly growing agape. When he then spoke in a breathless whisper, he was close enough to his mic that it picked it up and sent it to the person it was directed to.

“...H-Haru? Is that you?”

The raven-haired male looked at the young man that had called his name, the rabbit hopping out of his arms and darting away into the park. He wasn’t even able to register and answer the question until the vocalist opened his mouth to speak again, seeming to spark with sudden excitement and warmth. Flashing a smile that stirred the deepest bounds of Haruka’s foggy memory. Had he seen this man before?

Surely he had, because the other’s eyes seemed to light up with instant recognition. He took off his hat, revealing soft, fluffy locks which color would remind anybody of a dark, sweet syrup. Before Haruka could even respond, they were introduced for what seemed to feel like the second time.

“Haru-chan, it really _is_ you! You... remember me, right? I’m Makoto Tachibana.”


	2. SIDE A: And I Will Never Fear The Rain

“I’m really sorry about that. Usually our performances end in a more professional manor. N-not that we’re anywhere close to being professionals, but...!”

This had to have been at least the fifth time he rambled an apology for their wild encounter. But despite his sincerity, Makoto seemed to be all bright with smiles, his legs swinging back and forth as the two of them sat upon the bench. Haruka’s legs had gotten comfortable mimicking those motions as well, but that wasn’t of his concern at the moment. Steady, oceanic eyes bore into the other’s face, studying him. Staring at him quietly, almost harshly, despite the other’s radiating warmth and serenity.

“You’ve changed a lot,” Haruka said, “I didn’t even recognize you.”

This didn’t seem to offend the brunet at all. Instead, he just gave a soft laugh. “Well,” Makoto hummed, grabbing the large orca hat and placing it once more atop his head, “With this thing on, who can tell it is me? Besides, if it weren’t for your nervous hiccups, I would have never been able to guess you were the Haru-chan that I sat next to in class!”

There was a pause, and the ghost of a smile brightened Haruka’s features. Perhaps that was true. They haven’t seen each other in years, so perhaps it was natural for them to have changed so much since then. But Haruka was certain that the other’s hair hadn’t been that thick, his chin so defined and stubbly...

Unaware of the silent judging, Makoto continued after a moment, looking off into the distance as if he was lost in thought. In memory. “Haru, do you remember that day in math class...”

“Where that cockroach came out of the floor?” That memory was immediately jarred back into Haruka’s brain, and he finished the thought before the other could.

Makoto nodded, chuckling under his breath. “Mhm! And everybody else was so scared, but you simply hiccupped!”

“I get hiccups when I’m nervous.” The reply was almost shy. There was another pause, sparking a moment of realization. Haruka frowned. “...But wasn’t that in chemistry?”

Makoto looked at him, unable to hide his confusion. “Uh, no... Math.”

* * *

 

“Rin,” Haruka picked up one of the pills, staring at it studiously. “Is this medicine making me stupid?”

Rin’s brow furrowed. “Why would it?”

“I feel like my memory is getting worse,” Was the explanation, “I think I met someone that I used to go to school with today... but I could hardly recognize them.”

This seemed to initiate a motherly interrogation. “Boy or girl?”

“Boy.”

“Same homeroom?”

“We shared a few classes together...”

A pause. Something akin to mirth glimmered in those crimson orbs.

“Did you _like_ him?”

Haruka bit back a defensive growl, answering a little too quickly. “No!”

Rin leaned back in his chair, putting his hands smugly behind his head, looking as if he had won (but what, exactly, remained to be seen). “Then it’s natural you don’t recognize him. If you didn’t know him that well, why would you remember every little detail of what he looks like?”

The raven-haired male didn’t know how to respond to this. So, naturally, he chose not to. Putting the pill back, he stood up and left the room with a sense of stubborn pride. He hoped Rin didn’t hear the small hiccup that he choked back in his throat.

“I’m going to take a bath.”

* * *

 

“Romantic literature was a direct descendant of medieval literature, which adapted a style of heroic prose and verse narrative...”

The professor’s lecture was falling on deaf ears, for Haruka had found something more important to focus on.

Small, slender fingers gripped the scratch piece of paper. It had evidence of haste written all over it (quite literally, in fact,) with ten digits scribbled on it in jagged handwriting. Above the numbers was ‘Makoto Tachibana’, accompanied by his signature sign: A characteristic smiley face.

Haruka had received the brunet’s phone number that day they had met at the park. A couple of days had passed now, and Haruka felt somewhat ashamed for not having called him. The memory flashed back to his head effortlessly.

_“Here’s my number! Call me when you can, okay, Haru-chan?” Makoto had asked, to which the raven-haired male promised to do so. Before his unavoidable departure that evening, as the sky grew powdered with dark orange and pink hues and shadows began to bleed onto the scenery around them, they wished each other farewell for now in the form of their old hand shake; a gentle fist bump, a slap of the palms, and one on the back of the hands, sliding their knuckles up each other’s forearm and back, and then finally clasping them in a natural handshake. They had been using it almost for as long as they had been friends, and even after so long, Haruka remembered and performed the motions naturally, fluidly, as if he’d done it every day since then and the two of them hadn’t been separated all these years. That was the meaning behind the handshake, after all; it was an unspoken promise – a pact between two boys closer than friends – that no matter what ever happened to them, they would always remember each other and the love they shared for one another._

Haruka sighed, a smile breaking across his face – completely unfiltered and unguarded. He looked around too late to find the reality that he was still in class, and one of the kids sitting nearby had noticed his change of expression and was pointing it out in surprise to some of his friends. Embarrassed, the raven stopped his dreamy smiling and tucked the paper into his folder, returning his gaze to the window without a word.

* * *

 

_The tape recorder was rolling, catching every word Haruka uttered and holding onto them tightly, like every noise that the boy made was worth the universe._

_“Makoto... I had a feeling I would see you today. And there you were, at my school. You told me you would take me somewhere special, so I said ‘OK’... maybe someday.”_

Haruka was standing at the base of a large sakura tree as it began to bud. The morning sunlight was a warm yellow as it flecked at the ground through the leaves. Makoto was with him, smiling and nodding in understanding. The shorter male grew suddenly skeptical. “You’re... not going to ask me why?”

“It’s Friday,” Makoto offered, green eyes bright and cheery, almost as bright as the sun that was hitting his hair and making it glow a dappled honey-gold color. “When we were in highschool, you went to the grocery store every Friday. It was because your mackerel is on sale, right?”

_“I never thought you’d actually remember...”_

Makoto’s hand then fell absentmindedly to his back pocket. He froze as he found nothing there, and his eyes widened a moment, opening his mouth as if to explain.

_“Well,_ I _remember you used to lose your keys in high school, and... you’d empty your back pocket looking for them.”_

Haruka held out the keys, looking rather proud of himself with a triumphant gleam to his eyes.

The brunet simply laughed, taking them back from the raven-head and shaking his head in joking disbelief. “You _still_ do that...”

An abrupt, obnoxious honk of a horn tore through their conversation. The both of them quickly looked over to locate the source. Rin was there, looking at the both of them through the windshield of his car(that was as deep a red as his hair), giving them a steady look. Haruka felt disappointment bubble in his stomach. Couldn’t he stay just a _little_ longer?

Alas, Haruka knew that asking for time would be a childish game. Accepting his fate, the raven-haired male shrugged, starting to walk away from the other. Makoto held out his fist. At first, Haruka figured it was his way of holding him back for a moment, but he then realized it was simply an invitation for their parting handshake. Of course, how could he forget? A gentle fist bump, a slap of the palms, the backhand, run the knuckles up and back, a friendly grip. Makoto was beaming brighter than the speckled sunlight as Haruka walked to the car.

Rin had given him an inquiring look as he sat in the passenger’s seat, but said nothing all the way home.

_“Do you still remember this? You used to have this tape recorder in your hand all the time. You used to record the songs you wrote on that guitar for it, and you’d listen to it over and over, searching for mistakes. Once, when you were listening to it in class, the teacher took it. One day, I had monitor duty, and I saw it on the teacher’s desk, so I took it. I wanted to give it back to you... but then... you transferred to another school.”_

* * *

 

The sun was high in the sky, illuminating the deep green foliage of gardens that surrounded the house and bouncing vividly off the grey cement of the sidewalk. There were birds out and about, chirping happily to each other as they lined the glossy picket fence and rustled about in the tall, blooming trees. It was a beautiful day. But Haruka was too busy to notice, eyes fixated on his watch as he sat on the porch step.

The cutesy ring of a bell finally brought him to attention. Looking up, he saw a figure right in front of him, one foot on the bright pavement and the other on the pedal of his bicycle. Even with the sunglasses on to hide the sea of green, Haruka knew who it was.

“Ready to go, Haru-chan?”

Makoto held out another pair of sunglasses. With a day as hot and cloudless as this, sunglasses were a good call. Makoto had always been so good at planning ahead.

Haruka pointed to his wristwatch as he stood up and accepted the glasses. It was 12:03. “You’re three minutes and thirteen seconds late.”

“Hmm... you’re right...” The brunet’s lips puckered in thought before he gently grabbed hold of the other’s arm, adjusting the watch on the spot. When he was done, the watch read 11:59. Makoto grinned as he let the other’s hand go. “I gave you four minutes. Keep the change!”

_That’s not how time works, you idiot..._  Haruka’s eye roll was obscured from view as he put the shades on. He studied Makoto for a moment, noticing how he had begun to adjust his position on the bike for two people to sit on it, before he began to walk away and ignore the unspoken instruction. Makoto looked shocked at first, watching the raven leave him, uncomprehending. When he came to a realization, he then grew mildly concerned. He nearly tripped on his bike, worried he would be left behind in Haruka’s attempt at playfulness. “H-hey! Haru-chan, wait for me!”

* * *

 

“I remember how you used to draw all over your textbooks in highschool,” Haruka was saying. They were standing together below a green-and-white-striped awning, huddling beside a nearby building as the rain began to pour. The day they had shared together had been amazing: A leisurely ride beside the ocean waves. Sitting together on the beach as they watched the sun slowly go down. Surely the shoreline was what Makoto had mentioned the previous day about taking him “somewhere special”... The water had always been an area of interest to Haruka, so it made the day even more special than it already was.

“Did I?” Makoto inquired, eyebrows raised in genuine interest, “I didn’t remember that...!”

Haruka looked up at the sky, watching the water fall from the stormy clouds. Today, the sky didn’t look nearly as threatening as usual. He reached his hand out, letting the rain drip onto his palm.

“My memories are a lot like water; the tighter you grab it, the faster it slips away.” Deep, blue eyes then focused back on Makoto. His words were soft; there was no edge or underlying threat to them, “You’re a lot different than what I remember...”

Makoto’s hand reached out and met Haruka’s, pulling it away from the wet rain. “Then how _do_ you remember me...?”

Haruka’s grip on the other’s hand tightened. He used his other hand to pull out a pen from his jacket pocket, and without a word of explanation, he began to write on the back of his hand. To Makoto’s surprise, there were no visible marks left behind.

“It’s a glow-in-the-dark pen,” The shorter male explained, “Go home and turn the lights off. You’ll be able to read it.”

Haruka turned and was about to make his timely departure, when a faintly familiar sound began to echo through the street. It was coming from one of the open apartment windows. Music... a song that seemed to ring a quiet bell in the back of the raven’s head. Makoto recognized it right away.

“...H-hey...! Do you remember that one gym teacher we had...” He began.

“Coach Sasabe,” Haruka prompted.

“And every time he put this song on, he always got up and danced!” The two of them were already swaying to the beat. Makoto grabbed the other’s hands giddily. “And we used to dance behind him.”

It came back to the both of them all at once. Their sways quickly evolved into actual dance steps, both boys facing each other with newfound rhythm. Makoto was leading. They circled around and around in the street, one beaming and laughing and the other giving a slight crease of the lips– a content smile. Haruka hadn’t danced in so long! It had to have been since the last time they had gym class together. All the steps came back to him naturally. And the ones that Makoto made up their on the spot (he was a master at improv dancing, apparently,) Haruka was able to follow easily. So there they were, dancing together in the rain. They were the only two in the world right now; they owned the street they danced upon. It was beautiful – the two reunited again, laughing and smiling again... falling in love again. And even though the actions all came second nature to them both, it really felt like the first time they’d truly felt this close. It was a moment of undescribable happiness and a peace without boundaries for the both of them.

But as everybody knows, those moments don’t last forever.

Haruka looked over Makoto’s shoulder at just the wrong time. He froze where he stood, orbs of deep blue widening in nothing short of shock. Makoto could tell something was wrong, and he quickly stopped where he was as well.

“Rin?”

It was him, alright. Now that he had gone noticed, his presence was strong and almost impossible to ignore. He wore a disgusted scowl on his face, his eyes sparked with a heated, inflamed red that seemed to match his aura at that moment. His arms crossed over his chest as he stood motionless and glared at the both of them. They separated from each other under his eyes. When he stepped forward, Makoto bowed his head as if trying to avoid the piercing gaze. It only caused the look Rin was giving him to worsen.

“So... _you’re_ Tachibana?”

The one belonging to the name smiled sheepishly. “H-hello.”

Orbs of blood red glanced at them both suspiciously. “Where are you two going so late?”

Silence.

Makoto didn’t do too well under pressure such as this; it was easy to tell by the sudden tense fidgeting of his body. It was no surprise that he was the first to crack. “Out.”

“Tachibana... you’re a student, right? Show me your I.D.”

Haruka and Makoto took a split second to glance at each other. This was an unexpected request, and in confused them both. The brunet looked back at the intimidating redhead, and squeaked, “I—I don’t... I quit...”

“You quit?” Rin’s voice was quiet, almost calm, “Then show me an I.D.”

The helpless male searched his jacket, pant, and breast pockets. No I.D. could be found. Another nervous, worried smile. He lifted his hands up slightly, palms outward, as if he was surrendering. “I didn’t bring one.”

“Rin...” Haruka glared at his friend, growing a little annoyed. Since when did this role of “overprotective father” kick in?

“H-How about this,” Makoto offered, “When I come to see Haru-chan tomorrow–”

“Oh, you’re seeing him tomorrow?” At that moment, Haruka could have sworn Rin’s teeth looked sharper than ever. He was using that tone of voice that reminded Haruka of vinegar; it sounded decent enough, very smooth and cool, but had a very sour, acidic undertone to it.

“Th-that’s the plan,” He replied, “Tomorrow I’m taking Haru to my friend’s swimming center.”

“Were you two going to swim?”

At this inquiry, Haruka tried to butt in hastily. “No, we– we were just going to go see it.”

This caused Makoto to turn and look at the raven, green eyes dimming in confusion. Before anymore questions could be asked, Haruka shook his head, sighing in defeat. He began to walk away with haste.

“Whatever, I’m going home.”

Rin and Makoto were left alone together for a few seconds filled with silence, which they both used to stare at each other. Deciding how to go about this encounter. When Makoto tried to give a soft smile to protect the peace, Rin only responded with a disappointed look and the swift turn of the heel, treading quickly after Haruka. As he watched the both of them leave, Makoto waved goodbye in Haruka’s direction. Those blue eyes brightened slightly at the sight, but Rin quickly and forcefully turned the raven’s head away.

The music had stopped. The only sound that could be heard in the street was the sound of the rain splattering upon the ground and the rumble of faraway cars. A nearby streetlight flickered. A small kitten huddled underneath the apartment awning to keep away from the rain.

Remembering the glow-in-the-dark pen, Makoto put his hand inside his jacket and peered down at it. The words, as promised, shone a brilliant yellow on his skin. Reading what was written, he flashed a pleased smile.


	3. SIDE A: I Know That Fate is Real

The loyal alarm clock chimed bravely at 6 A.M. that next morning, stirring Haruka from his slumber from where it stood on his bedside post. On most days, Haruka would’ve groaned and rolled over and ignore the loud buzzing object, waiting instead for either Rin or the sun to wake him. But today was not most days. As his blue eyes slowly opened, Haruka was struck with that feeling of waking up on the right side of the bed, and with a spurt of energy the alarm clock was silenced as his hand hit the proper button.

The raven sat up, feeling ready to take on the world. It was no mystery to him why he felt this way; this was Makoto’s doing. Back in highschool, Haruka had gotten almost used to this euphoria. Last night’s adventures were still fresh and whirling about his head, and the thought of seeing Makoto again today was only fueling his rush of adrenaline further.

It was almost too much. Haruka had to find a way to vent out this energy he was so unused to having. Getting untangled from his covers and standing up out of the bed, he quickly found his tape recorder, holding it high in both hands and looking up at it with a look one might call admiration.

He then began to twirl about, dancing with the recorder as if it was Makoto himself. There was music in his head that took over for just that instant of time. He moved about with a sense of freedom to his motions, surprised to find that he wasn’t as limited as the doctors had made it sound. He circled about his room, then progressed to slide down the wooden floor of the hallway, swinging around and entering the kitchen area with a sense of arrogant happiness.

The overwhelming bliss only subsided when he realized that Rin was standing by the kitchen table, a coffee mug in his hand, his expression contorted into a look that Haruka knew was a sign he was inwardly making fun of the spontaneous morning routine. The music stopped abruptly.

“Good morning.” The greeting was laced with an amusement that matched the shade of maroon in his eyes.

Haruka went deadpan and stiff, innocently hiding the tape recorder behind his back. Maybe if he pretended nothing had happened, they would both forget the embarrassment quicker. “I... thought you were at the gym.”

“I’m taking a day off."

But Rin never took days off. Haruka opened his mouth to question this, but he found his answer faster than expected when he heard his phone’s ringtone go off, the melody chiming loudly from where it lay — on the kitchen table. Both Rin and Haruka looked down at it. The raven’s stomach dropped as he realized who was calling.

Rin only smirked with a cruel, teasing gleam to his eyes as he playfully poked the button to hang up. When he looked back up at Haru, the gleam changed from one of mirth into one of strict challenge. The coffee cup was placed on the table with care.

“He’s been trying to get a hold of you all morning,” He said. “But I don’t think a bad influence like _that_ should be hanging out around you.”

“Rin,” Haruka’s sigh was exasperated. This sudden irritation that was added to his morning made him tired once more. He didn’t want to deal with this; he shouldn’t have to have this conversation with his friend. What was his problem? Was he jealous?

“It’s not like I’m _trying_ to be an overprotective parent here telling you not to date somebody,” Rin explained (using the term ‘date’ brought a flaring heat to Haruka’s ears), “But I don’t need you tempted to wear yourself out too much. Were you really planning on going _swimming?_ Haru, you know the doctors have been telling us not to put you through... how do they put it? Physical exertion? Yeah, that’s the phrase.”

Haruka looked away, pretending not to listen. Not _wanting_ to listen. He knew this as well as Rin did; any kind of laboring activity would send him right back to the hospital, perhaps permanently if he wasn’t careful. But maybe if he _was_ careful, he could wade around in the water a little bit. He liked water, and the water liked him. He didn’t _have_ to swim laps or sink his head under and make himself stretch out his tight lungs. The water would understand. But apparently, Rin didn’t so much.

“ _Rin,_ ” Haruka tried again, this time more urgent. He didn’t have time to continue his excuse, for the redhead crossed his arms and shook his head. His expression softened; he looked legitimately sad about the rules he was enforcing.

“I’m sorry, Haru, but I can’t let you do that to yourself. Go rest some more. Yesterday was probably very taxing on your body.”

Much like a child that had been scolded at, the shorter male huffed in annoyance and stormed off. Rin heard the door to the other’s bedroom close not-so-gently before he sighed and shook his head at himself.

 

* * *

 

The day was fading into evening. Warm rays of sun poured into Haruka’s room, illuminating the papers on his desk nicely. Haruka sat at his desk, running a blue colored pencil along the drawing he was creating. It was a picture of him and Makoto from last night, the lines sketchy on one end and smoother on the other. It had originally been a stress relief picture that Haruka had used to take out his aggression and disappointment, but after he had finished sketching in Makoto’s emerald eyes, he switched gears and begun to take more time on it, making the lines even and gentle. Much like Makoto himself.

The window was open. Haruka listened to the chirping birds outside as he worked, enjoying the slight breeze that came through his room every so often and whisked through his already-messy raven hair. The wind chimes were also pretty noisy as well, chiming every time a breeze blew by. Haruka didn’t mind. He liked the sound of it; it reminded him of what he thought the sound of nature would be.

A gentle motion outside the window made Haruka pause and look up from his work. A small, white basket was dangling by a string right in front of him. Curiosity enabled the raven to lean just outside of his window, taking a hold of the basket and looking at it’s contents. A little mackerel can. Attached to it, a note that read;

_‘I’m on the roof! :D’_

Haruka couldn’t help but smile. He looked up towards the roof, but only saw the string. Even so, he knew it was Makoto. Who else would actually take the time to climb up there just to say hello? Nobody Haru knew. The raven-haired male thought for a moment before his head disappeared back inside, taking the mackerel can happily. After a minute or two, he returned with his tape recorder and a small chocolate bar, placing both of them in the basket and tugging on the string twice. A signal to let Makoto know to reel it back in.

Makoto had attached the basket to a fishing line, so reeling it in is exactly what he did to retrieve the basket. When he finally hauled it back up, he picked up the chocolate bar and smiled to himself. Chocolate was his favorite. It never ceased to amaze him how Haru-chan remembered all those little details. He placed the chocolate down beside him and picked up the tape recorder, pressing play.

“Having fun up there?” The voice was undoubtedly Haru’s, deep and calm. “Enjoy the chocolate.”

Haruka was waiting expectantly for the basket to come back down, which it inevitably did. The chocolate bar was gone, but the tape recorder had been returned. He brought it to his ear as he listened to Makoto’s worry-laced voice.

“Why doesn’t Rin-san like me? Did you tell him something? Y-you didn’t tell him any dirty secrets, did you?!”

When the tape recorder came back up, Haruka’s reply was serious.

“I’ve told you. I can’t swim because of my disease. So, you shouldn’t mention anything about swimming around him. My health... it’s the one thing that drives him crazy.” A pause. “...But enough of that. Sing me something.”

“What do you want to hear, Haru-chan?”

Haruka hummed into the recorder in thought, the sound afterwards sending playful vibrations through the recorder when it was once more in Makoto’s hand. “Something... gentle.”

Makoto was good at gentle. Despite his large appearance, that word was one that best described him in general. Haruka hadn’t heard his singing voice in a while, and when the tape recorder came back to him, he was not disappointed.

Placing the tape recorder on the desk, the sound of acoustic guitar filled the room. A sweet, serene set of chords that fit perfectly with the warmth of the sun’s rays on Haruka’s face. Deep ocean eyes looked out the window at the setting sun, imagining what Makoto looked like sitting up there on the roof with his guitar, singing such heartfelt words.

_“Up here without you, there’s a loss I always feel._

_But your smile is like a rainbow_

_spreading softly across my heart._

_And from now on, I’ll never fear the rain._

_Holding hands and being together again,_

_and it’s all we need to be happy..._

_Now I know that fate is real.”_

Having heard the music from the kitchen, Rin quickly came over and opened the door, staring at Haruka in nothing short of bewilderment. Neither of the two males said anything; Rin couldn’t form the question, and Haruka couldn’t form the answer. Finally, the redhead pointed intelligently to the sky– to the roof.

“Tell him to come down from there,” Rin said. He then turned as if he was about to leave, paused for a moment, then muttered under his breath, “And... he can stay for dinner, if he wants.”

 

* * *

 

As ridiculous as it may sound, potato paste works well for treating sunburns. Makoto was applying it generously to his face as the trio sat at the dinner table, and while Haruka was doing his best not to watch and gawk as the brunet’s dinner became a cheap spa treatment, Rin was not afraid to snicker and grin at this occurrence.

“That’ll teach you not to stay up on the roof all day,” Rin was saying, “You’re lucky it’s just a sunburn.”

Makoto laughed despite himself and nodded. He quickly found that smiling had been a mistake as it caused his cheeks to burn even more. Wincing in pain, he kept applying more paste to his cheek. Rin took this silence as a chance to continue his scolding, which was really more of a playful tease over anything.

“You could’ve fallen off of the roof. What would your parents have done if you’d fallen?”

“They’d laugh.”

“What do your parents do now?” Haruka asked, glad to find a way to get into the conversation.

“They’re abroad right now— sabbatical leave.”

Haruka nodded in understanding. Rin quickly sent more questions Makoto’s way.

“So why aren’t you in school anymore?”

Makoto hesitated. He scratched the back of his head anxiously. “W-well, I tried, in hopes to become a coach, but... I had to drop because I didn’t have the funds. So now I’ve joined that band, hoping to raise a little bit of money...” He paused, “Th-this sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

Rin’s eyebrow furrowed in thought, ignoring the last bit of shy, unsure commentary. “What’s your band called again?”

“The, uh... Wild Whales.”

At this, the redhead laughed. Haruka had a mouth full of rice which helped in hiding the small grin that cracked onto his face. The title was English, but it was Makoto’s Japanese pronunciation that made it sound all the more strange.

“It fits.” Rin nodded, “You’d have to be pretty _wild_ to climb on other people’s roofs.”

Makoto’s laugh was sheepish and embarrassed. Haruka glanced over at Rin in a threatening manner. He could tell that the brunet was growing a little uncomfortable, and he hoped that eyeing the other like that would help in getting the message across that the questioning should very much be over.

Rin seemed to get it, though he didn’t react to the glare at all. He instead sighed whimsically before putting his chopsticks down, as if in defeat.

“Be careful out there tonight, alright?” He asked, smiling softly at Haruka. His glowing red eyes were brimming with unspoken worry, as if trying to say, ‘please don’t push yourself too hard.’

With his hues of blue widening in surprise, it was easy to tell Haruka was pleased. He looked over at Makoto, who was attempting another small smile despite his sunburned, paste-covered face. Underneath the table, Makoto offered his fist. Haruka bumped it with his own, and they proceeded with their handshake in silent victory.

 

* * *

 

 

A party popper went off, which was somehow just barely louder than the happy group of young adults that were all partying in the room. There were only five of them — Haruka, Makoto, and the three others that made up the Wild Whales band. Those three were the loudest of all, but that was to be expected from the founders of a rock/garage punk band, right?

If he were to be honest(or if one was to be able to read the uncomfortable expression on his face they would be able to tell), rowdy crowds like this were not Haruka’s forte, but he managed to endure the loud teens with party hats on their heads and alcohol in their brains for the sake of Makoto’s happiness. Makoto, in turn, did not abandon Haruka for the sake of his friends, which was why when the other three were sitting on chairs on one side of the table, him and the raven sat together on the other, facing them instead. Haruka found it odd how comfortable Makoto felt around these people and their drinking habits, but perhaps that was just his own discomfort forming a bias.

“Oi, Haru~,” One of the band members piped up. Haruka recognized him as the lead singer of the group; he had been introduced to the raven as Shigino Kisumi. His pink hair was as bright as his attitude, puffiness mirroring his outward friendliness, and he adorned a pair of sparkling violet eyes with a hue almost as loud as he was. He seemed like the type that didn’t hide his feelings, yet even so, Haruka got a shady vibe from him that caused immediate dislike. Kisumi hadn’t caught on to this yet. “I just realized that you and our rabbit have the same horoscope sign!”

“Oh yeah, that’s right!” The guitarist chimed in; a tall and sturdy redhead named Mikoshiba Seijuuro. He was older than the others by a few years, (and he looked it, too,) but in Haruka’s opinion, he acted no more childish than any of them. Despite Haruka’s lack of interest in this discussion, the drummer — who also turned out to be Seijuuro’s baby brother, Momotaro — decided to butt in and explain the story that tied Haruka and their pet bunny together;

“He was born about the same time of year you did! At least, we’re pretty sure. When we found him, he was about four or five months old. There was horrible blizzard that was dusting snow _everywhere_!”

“We don’t get snow here,” Makoto said thoughtfully.

“We’re from the far northeast,” Seijuuro explained. “My brother brought the rabbit here from our homeland.”

It was about this time that Momotaro was hopping excitedly onto the table, as if preparing to reenact his story with the rabbit in question in one of his hands, the other dramatically pointing (supposedly) in the direction of the sea. At the age he was, which Haruka assumed to be around 19-20 years, Momotaro was about as tall as his brother, but much scrawnier, and his fire-engine-red hair was messily styled and blended in well with his fluffy moustache. His eyes were glowing a joyous yellow-gold as he spoke his incomprehensible ramble of a speech; “It was a dark, cold winter’s night... the blizzard _raging_ on.  Went we found little Higeki in our shed. Abandoned, hungry, cold, and alone without a family to look after him. It was _so tragic!_ So then, I was like, ‘Nii-san, we _have_ to keep it!’, and... here we are!— Which reminds me, thank you for catching him before he got away, Haruka-san! Maybe this is a sign. You and Higeki really have something in common, I bet!”

“Do you get snow every year?” Makoto asked, seeming to ignore that last part, to which Haruka was grateful for.

“Well, yeah!” Was the answer, although the tone made it sound more like ‘ _well, duh!_ ’, “And it always manages to snow right when I’m going home for winter break. The whole city gets encased in frigid ice, and everyone practically turns into little popsicles!”

_‘Is this really what drunk musicians discuss?'_ Was Haruka’s thought, ' _Rabbit horoscopes and snowstorms?'_  He was beginning to crinkle his eyebrows in a look of speechless confusion when Seijuuro asked;

“Hey, Nanase, you’ve seen snow, right?”

Deep seas of blue blinked up at the man, stunned he would ask such a question. “I’ve... seen it in movies.” Came the answer, although it was uncertain and hesitant.

“Never in real life?!” This news shocked Momotaro, and he showed his exasperation with a loud gasp and a look of hurt that contorted his facial features. “That just will not stand!! Haruka-san, you _have_ to see snow! You should come live with us this winter. Make it a vacation!”

“I can’t,” Haruka replied, “I have doctor’s appointments every week. I can’t leave my—”

“Aaaalright, let’s get off this subject,” Kisumi stood up, putting his drink down for a moment. “I’m going to show you guys a trick,” He announced, grabbing a coin from his pocket and quickly tossing it in the air, gathering everybody’s attention. Right as the coin was at it’s highest peak in the air, the pink-haired boy took this time to grab the unsuspecting Momotaro’s moustache, yanking it off with a professional-like precision. It had been fake, so it seemed.

His secret now out, the young drummer squawked in dismay, jumping off of the chair and reaching to grab his accessory back. In response, Kisumi wasted no time bolting away, laughing all the way until he was out of their line of sight and then some. The coin had dropped to the wooden table with a small ‘ding!’ as it was left forgotten.

As Seijuuro and Makoto chuckled along, Haruka looked up at the brunet and gave a pleased smile. Makoto seemed happy. And if Makoto was happy, so was he.

 

* * *

 

“Take your places. Ready? And... _start_!”

The swimmers all dived into the pool in unison, hitting the water with the utmost precision and nary a splash. Haruka’s eyes were glistening, as big as the body of water they watched as he took in the sight— took in how beautiful the display was. The tiniest twinge of sadness was nestling comfortably in his heart, the faintest voice in the back of his head reminding him how he can _never_ do what they were doing because of his fragile lungs and limbs, but he was able to push those feelings aside once more, swallowing the self-pity before it was able to become bile in his throat.

“They’re great, aren’t they?” Makoto hummed as he leaned in close to the other boy, speaking what was exactly on Haruka’s mind. He smiled as he received his response— an awestruck nod— and as he turned to focus back on the swimmers, his attention honed in on the tape recorder that Haruka was slowly pulling out and turning on. He watched as the smaller male placed it on the nearby bench. “What are you recording?”

“The rhythm of the strokes.”

Haruka put his forefinger to his mouth as he looked back up at Makoto, the universal sign of ‘shhhh!’

Makoto simply chuckled and nodded, parroting the sign language.

Shhhh.

 

* * *

 

“What does running feel like?”

The two of them were walking together on Haruka’s college campus. With no real destination in mind, they were allowing themselves to simply wander and enjoy each other’s company, never minding the bicyclists and the joggers that were about. Makoto was now turning to look at Haruka with a surprised glimmer to his eye (the reflection of the sunlight making them sparkle much to the raven’s liking), and it was a moment of curious silence before Haruka explained,

“Ever since the incident in highschool, Rin has always insisted that I never move too fast... that running would kill me. So I don’t remember what it is like to run.”

Deep, dark pools of blue looked over at the rack of bicycles that was just up ahead, fixing his gaze on them with a look akin to absentmindedness. “It must be like riding a bike really fast, right?”

A pause. The fluffy raven-colored locks swished about slightly as Haruka shook his head, almost as if he was disappointed. That comparison wasn’t quite right. It _can’t_ be right.

“No... bikes are too steady.”

 

* * *

 

“Rin. When we met, all those years ago, did you ever think I’d have this disease?”

The stars were lovely tonight, shining radiantly as they worked together to light up the pitch black sky. The sun had set several hours ago, but that didn’t matter much to the two who were relaxing pleasantly on their porch swing, visiting quietly while the rest of the world slowly began to fall into slumber.

“Why do you ask?” Rin, who was leaning back with his arms above his head, turned to look at Haruka quizzically. The redhead sounded almost defensive as he questioned further; “Have people been telling you things?”

Haruka shook his head. “It’s just that I didn’t know my parents very well. Before they left. I’m wondering if one of them had this same problem.”

The atmosphere seemed to oddly thicken between them. Rin’s words were soft, and he paused often, as if he was trying to find a way to tell the other boy a well-kept secret.

“Listen, Haru... I think there’s something you need to know about them. Your parents, I mean. Maybe you don’t remember, but... your dad, he...”

Rin had Haruka’s full attention at this point. Looking him dead in the eye, straight-faced, he took a deep breath and said,

“He was an alien.”

The raven stared at his friend, totally confused. They looked at each other for the longest time, until finally, Rin cracked up. His entire face lit up once more with mirth, and he laughed, _hard_ , the swing jerking with every ragged movement his shaking frame made.

“I’m just kidding! You totally bought it! I knew you would! _You believed me!_ ” 

Realizing his vital mistake, Haruka looked away angrily, crossing his arms and making a defiant ‘tch’ sound as he grit his teeth in embarrassment. He felt the tips of his ears heat up. “I did _not_.”

“Okay, okay,” Breathing heavy, Rin was trying his best to stop laughing, all but doubled over in his giggling fit. The lights illuminating their porch caught the reflection of a tear in his eye as he tried to regain composure. “You believed me for—... for _at least_ three seconds.” He held up three fingers to emphasize this.

“No, I didn’t!”

But Rin didn’t listen to the other’s insisting grumbles, and instead he leaned over and put his head happily on Haruka, allowing shades of maroon to pour over his shoulder and neck. It took a few minutes of comforting silence for him to settle down once more, but eventually, Rin was calm enough to seriously answer the other’s worried words with a deep tone of reassurance.

“All joking aside, Haru... I know there’s a way we can fight this. I’m not sure how you got it, or why it had to be you of all people, but we’ll figure something out. We’ll keep working at it together as a team, okay? The medication’s rough and kind of scary, but... I believe you can pull through. Stay strong, for both of us. For the team, remember?” 

Haruka nodded lazily, and in that moment he realized just how tired he really was. “For the team,” he agreed, but when he finally allowed himself to close his eyes and rest his cheek on Rin’s head, he was already sound asleep.


	4. SIDE A: These Words are Knives that Often Leave Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the wait, everyone! My computer died, so writing hasn't been the easiest for me right now. Plus, my writing muse is always so fragile. I hope this somewhat longer chapter can make up for it! (Also, I hope you can bear with the writing on this chapter, as this is a first draft writing that I started the same day I'm posting it!)

“Oi! Give me the fucking booze!”

“No, I’m sorry, but you can’t have any more! You’ve had plenty! T-too much, in fact!”

“Just _give it to me,_ dammit! I have the money!”

It was raining. The two quarreling men had already gathered a crowd of curious bystanders, civilians who had stopped their late night jogs or their journeys home after a hard day’s work to see the ensuing battle for the large jug of alcohol.

The owner of the small stand on the street, a small, grey-haired old man, was struggling to keep it in his hands as the much larger, stronger male tugged at it viciously with enough force to cause the frightened old man to start comparing him to a wild, ravenous bear. It was all the poor guy could do to hang onto his property for dear life.

A much younger man forced his way through the crowd, frantically calling out quick “let me through”s and “move it”s until he broke through the ring of rowdy people.

“Enough of this!” He shouted, in hopes that either man would hear. When this was proven unsuccessful, he forced his way in-between them, grabbing the bulkier man’s arms and yanking him back. The bear-man was distracted for just long enough that the little vendor managed to pry the jug away from him, and he quickly wrapped both of his small, skinny arms around it in a protective barrier.

Turning him around, the younger man looked the older in the eyes. But there was no hostility or violence in the look he gave— only worry. It seemed to calm the bear-like figure just slightly, his muscles relaxing where the young man was gripping him.

“Is this man your father?” The little man asked the peacemaker, voice just barely above a startled squeak.

A sigh; a slow nod. The blue-green eyes of the younger male darkened as the truth seemed to disable him for a moment. As if recalling that this crazed alcoholic harassing a poor street vendor was in fact his father almost caused him to suffocate in his own grief. But he seemed to realize his vulnerable state and lifted his chin up in a newfound, sturdy confidence.

“What is the meaning of this?” He demanded.

The little vendor stumbled over his words, trying to speak so fast that they almost tumbled out of his mouth all at once; “H–H–He’s been here all evening and has had way too much. An–any more would be hazardous to his health... I– I... was just—”

“Give it to him,” It was a command, urgent in manner. However, the firm tone seemed to deflate and die off as the man continued, “He has plenty of money. Just... give it to him. Please.”

The vendor’s hands were hesitant and shaky as he surrendered the booze. The passerby were now beginning to disperse, disappointed that a fight hadn’t broken out after all.

Content with the alcohol that was now warm in his hand, the older man looked at the younger— at his son. Though they looked at each other for a long while, neither of them said anything. Neither _could_ say anything.

The young man clenched his fist and took his leave. His back turned to the other, he adjusted the soaked, heavy jacket that rested on his shoulders as he walked down the street, letting the sound of raindrops pouring onto the sidewalk echo his hurried footsteps.

 

* * *

 

Haruka’s head leaned to the side, looking past the laundry he was hanging up to dry and gazing at Makoto’s form on the couch. Makoto seemed unusually quiet today; particularly devoid of energy, it seemed. It showed in the manner in which he was sitting on the love seat, holding his guitar on his lap lazily and every once in a while strumming a chord. He was distracted. Something was on his mind.

“What’s wrong?” There was no need to ask _if_ there was something wrong— Haruka could read the brunet’s body language as well as he could a book. As he approached the other, the raven asked, “Are you in a bad mood?

Makoto understood Haruka’s skill at cracking the code that was his own emotional and mental state, so confessing the problem wasn’t as tricky as it usually was for him. He never liked admitting he wasn’t always the smiling ray of sunshine he proved himself to be, but something about the other was rather disabling and easily unlocked how he truly felt about things. Even so, the brunet’s response was a little reluctant, and sounded very much as deflated as he looked.

“Y-yeah... A little bit.”

Thinking for a moment, Haruka sat on the seat parallel to the other, prepared to give him his full attention. “Let’s play a game,” He decided, “I play this with Rin a lot. We each take turns telling jokes.”

Makoto blinked. Haruka could tell this was his attempt at getting into the mood to play this, although it worried the raven slightly to notice the other didn’t care to say anything in response.

“I’ll go first,” Haruka offered after some time, “A little boy with a lump on his head hadn’t been studying well and his father was trying to help him learn discipline. The boy told him, ‘This world has three types of stupid birds; the ones that fly, the ones that don’t, and the ones that put their hopes in the next generation.’ The next day, the boy had another lump on his head.”

Makoto flashed a small smile, but Haruka saw that it didn’t reach his eyes. It hadn’t worked, Haruka knew, but the brunet seemed just a little bit brighter after the attempt. That, or he was just trying to keep the raven’s spirits from sinking as well.

“Thank you, Haru...” He sighed. He strummed another chord, which seemed to spark a change in topics, “I have a performance with the band in a couple days... would you come see it?”

Haruka nodded. “Of course.”

He manages to stop himself from adding, “Anything for you.”

 

* * *

 

The music was loud, but the crowd was even louder. Perhaps the Wild Whales were more popular than Haruka initially thought, but moments to reflect on this were few and far between with the sounds blaring into his ears from all directions that were making it hard to think. There was a fog machine hidden somewhere backstage and was causing a mist to infiltrate the room. Lights were flashing everywhere and splashed the stage with several different colors at a time; truly an epileptic’s nightmare. Kisumi was evidently not afraid to shout, flaunt, and dance around on the stage the most that he could during his performance, and the girls in the audience didn’t seem to mind this one bit.

Haruka was looking around at all the people in attendance, the time seeming to slow down considerably in his head. Most, if not all, were teenagers or young adults barely in their twenties. They were wild and reckless and were jumping around and dancing to the beat of the music, running their adrenaline highs and shamelessly enjoying their lives. The raven, unable (and not caring to) exhaust himself in that manner, could only watch and realize this as he stood there, the only one in the sea of bodies that wasn’t moving in some way. But that was okay.

_“I have never been able to understand our generation. I always thought they were crazy and irresponsible. I learned a while back how to detach myself from the world and ignore the atmosphere and emotions around me. But in that moment... I could feel it. The energy that was overpowering the room. The noise and the chaos moved me. Makoto… that was your doing, wasn’t it? Thank you.”_

* * *

 

“If you think it’s too loud, you can wait for me outside. I’m going to go pack up—I’ll be right back!”

Despite the loud screaming of the fanbase basking in the afterglow of the music’s thrill, Makoto’s voice had managed to reach Haruka’s ears. With both vibrant pairs of eyes wide and locked onto each other, Haruka couldn’t help but feel a sense of trust supporting the other’s careful statement. He gave a soft smile and a pleased nod in response.

“Okay.”

Happy to get a chance to escape, the raven took no time in turning around and heading to the exits, pushing his way gently through the crowd. When he looked back at that moment, he could only make out Makoto’s back as he also began walking the other direction and off of the stage with his guitar in hand.

 

* * *

 

The evening air was cool and calm—much calmer than it had been inside. Quiet serenity dusting the atmosphere, Haruka found immediate peace as he sat on the bench. He looked around; not a soul was out on the street tonight. It was just him and his thoughts in that moment. Him and his thoughts… and the clock that was hanging on the nearby billboard.

_8:30 P.M_., the clock informed him. The raven was relaxed in his contentment, and he pulled a small energy drink bottle from his coat pocket, looking down at it and running his fingers along the brand name absentmindedly. He had just bought this for Makoto at the neighboring vending machine, and was now waiting patiently to give it to him.

_9:01._ A lone car drove by, causing the slightest gust of wind. A stray piece of paper flew by on the street, flipping and gliding about until landing safely on the concrete right at Haruka’s feet. The streetlamp alongside him lit up the paper in a pool of warm light. The raven watched it, dark eyes glazing over in thought, reminded of all the art papers he has stocked in his room that hold Makoto’s smiling face in his pencil’s sketch. The art instructors always told him to draw what inspired him, and when it came to inspiration, Makoto was the only thing that came to mind.

_9:42._ At this point, Haruka’s bored yet imaginative mind started to wander further, using the piece of paper as his material for drawing scenarios in his head. He imagined the doodle he would make of him giving the brunet the energy drink, and the happy yet sheepish look Makoto will have on his face as he humbly accepts it. He thought up the different poses that the band had done during their performance and selected the one he thought was the best to sketch and frame on his wall. He tried to figure out which technique of coloring would properly recreate the satisfied and trustworthy look in those emerald eyes when he had told Haruka that he’ll “be right there” an hour earlier.

It was _10:57_ when Haruka had finished mentally sketching the picture of him sitting all alone with the neglected energy drink beside him.

Disheartened, the raven sighed, finally admitting defeat. He couldn’t wait any longer; his patience had worn too thin. At this rate, Rin was staying up too late and worrying about where he was. He couldn’t cause Rin that much worry. He had to accept it. Makoto wasn’t coming.

The horror of the realization caused Haruka’s heart to clench up in his chest. As he stood up and began to head home, the clock became a canvas all on it’s own, flashing an image of Haruka bitterly hitting the brunet with his guitar. The raven had to look away as he walked, shocked at his own mental image.

Makoto found the energy drink on the bench some time later. He picked it up, the reality of the situation piercing his heart like knives. Dread and shame hit him like a wave, and he angrily hit himself in the forehead with the drink, praying that it would finally knock some sense into him.

How could he have let this happen? How could he be so irresponsible and rude? He didn’t want to know.

“I’m so sorry, Haru...” he whispered. “Dammit, I really screwed up…”

But nobody was around to hear his apology for miles.

 

* * *

 

It was Monday afternoon. Makoto and Haruka had gone the full weekend without talking, which killed the both of them on the inside. But when they finally ran into each other in the warmth of the afternoon sun, it was Makoto that felt the worst. He had really screwed up, and he knew it. What he didn’t know was how he was going to get Haruka to accept his apology.

“H-Haru…?”

There was no response. Makoto was looking down at the raven, who was sitting there eating a bowl of rice and ignoring the larger male’s presence. Everything about Haruka’s body language was oozing hostility, and his aura of antipathy only got worse as Makoto attempted to smooth things over, making the brunet even more nervous.

“L-look, Haru, I’m really sorry. Could you please at least look at me?”

Haruka’s eyes finally locked onto Makoto’s, and the taller male immediately wished he hadn’t requested it. To put it simply: If looks could kill, Makoto had no doubt he would have fallen over dead in that instant. Makoto paled, and Haruka took that as a sign to look away, fixing his distasteful gaze on his rice. He tilted his body to the right, adjusting himself to sit at an angle where he wasn’t looking directly at the other.

“O-okay. Go ahead and eat. H-how about a joke?” Was all Makoto could think of to say; perhaps fear was the one factor that could wipe away his rationality in the blink of an eye. “A long time ago, there was a cold-blooded assassin. H-his sword was cold, his hands were cold…his blood was cold. A-and in the end… he froze to death.” He gave a muffled laugh, but the atmosphere got no lighter.

“I didn’t laugh. You lose.” Haruka said, not looking up from his bowl. In the silence that ensued, he grumbled, “Why didn’t you come that night?”

“I…” Although he _had_ expected that question, it still took the brunet off guard. “I met a friend backstage… and we started drinking… a-and… we got into a fight. I’m so sorry—”

Makoto? In a fight? That was obviously a lie. Haruka’s eyebrows furrowed in dissatisfaction. Haruka stood up from his bench, finally looking back at Makoto in confrontation.

“Next time you want to apologize, don’t explain. And if you want to explain, find a better excuse.” Despite the bitterness in his tone, Haruka did not raise his voice. Instead, his voice was… hauntingly quiet. It left Makoto standing there, dumbfounded, as the raven walked away almost calmly.

And then the taller male realized that Haruka didn’t sound all that angry. He sounded more _hurt_ than anything. “H-Haru, wait…!” He called out, stumbling over his own feet as he tried to follow the raven, “I—I can make it up to you, I promise! P-please, wait!”

 

* * *

 

As each day passed, Haruka was slowly coming to the realization that he simply _couldn’t_ stay mad at Makoto, as much as he would like to. It was Wednesday now and they were standing just outside the borders of the college campus, and every sign in nature pointed to it being another beautiful day. The clouds in the sky were white and fluffy, the grass a deep green and glistening with the morning dew. It was enough to get Haruka to ease off his defenses a little bit.

“This is the first time I’ve ever skipped class.” Haruka said. Although it sounded like he was simply admitting it, his expression was one of warning.

“Don’t worry… I promise it’ll be worth it.” Makoto promised, eyes glowing softly in relief. Before anything more could be said, he bent his knees and leaned down low.

“Climb on.”

“Huh?”

“Climb on!”

Hesitantly, Haruka approached Makoto and obeyed the order, leaning against the other’s strong back and wrapping his arms loosely around his neck. The brunet smiled and gently gripped at Haruka’s legs, and soon enough they were both in the default “piggy-back ride” position.

“You said you wanted to know what running feels like,” Makoto explained, “Well, I figured you could borrow my legs and find out! Hold on tight, Haru-chan!”

Before Haruka had any time to retaliate, Makoto had already taken off in a light jogging speed, and soon enough they were running down the hill. Haruka kept a firm hold on Makoto without choking him (at least he _hoped_ he wasn’t choking him), feeling the wind whip around him and cause his hair to fly behind him in a flutter of raven streams. He felt Makoto’s fluffy honey-brown hair pillow up under him as well, tickling at his chin and face at certain times on their happy trek.

They ran through the streets of the town, ignoring the odd looks the other passerby gave them. Makoto chuckled merrily almost the whole way between taking breaths, and the excitement that whisked through him like the wind had Haruka’s eyes alight with wonder and joy.

“A little bumpy at a moderate pace,” Makoto was commentating, “Running pretty much feels like this.”

So this was what it was like. It truly would have been a shame to forget this. He took out his tape recorder and allowed it to run, to take in the sounds of the wind and the beating of Makoto’s shoes on the road, capturing this moment forever.

 

* * *

 

Watching a sunset on the beach was almost just as mesmerizing—a perfect way to end the day the two of them had shared. Haruka and Makoto had their backs resting in the sand, looking up at the sky and just listening to the waves roll in with a relaxing pace.

The two of them turned their heads to look at each other for a moment, taking in how the setting sun’s light caused such vibrant shadows to bring out the colors of the other’s face and how their eyes shine and simply how _happy_ they both felt. Makoto grinned and, stimulated by the strong energy that enveloped the both of them, they both gave a light laugh.

“It seems like someone is about to have a birthday,” Makoto hummed.

“Right. 23.” Haruka replied.

“Do you have a wish?”

Haruka’s gaze was soft as he sat up and pulled something out of his pocket—a small picture of a swimmer caught in the middle of diving into the water. He handed it to Makoto, who looked at it quizzically.

“Swimming?”

“I picked that up off the side of the road when I was a child,” Haruka told him, pointing to what was now in Makoto’s hand, “I hoped that maybe one day, I could be like him—like that swimmer. What I forgot was that… _he_ is healthy. That is something I will never have.”

At this point, Haruka was looking over at the ocean now, his voice lowering into a crestfallen tone.

“So… I admire you, Makoto. You can get up on stage and scream and squander your youth.”

 

* * *

 

“Rin, you look like something’s bothering you.”

“Nah, it’s nothing. It’s just… this is the first time you aren’t spending your birthday with me. Heh. I guess you deserve a break.”

“Don’t start crying, crybaby.”

“I’m not gonna cry, you idiot!”

“Sure...”

“…Happy birthday, Haru.”

 

* * *

 

The both of them had agreed to meet up at a nearby Mexican restaurant. The atmosphere in the room was lovely and certainly one of romantic intent, with the lights low and soft, Spanish music playing in the background. Haruka would have learned to enjoy the aura of the place with Makoto. However, Makoto was not there, and so Haruka had to endure the dark atmosphere by himself for a while.

A singular red rose sat eagerly in a small glass vase in the middle of the table. Haruka stared at it; made friends with it. They had a lot in common, after all. They were both alone on this quiet evening, so they made a silent agreement to be alone together.

The clock kept ticking, relentless to remind Haruka that time was consecutively passing and being wasted. The other customers in the restaurant had filed out long ago, leaving only a handful of them still in the room. A horrible sense of déjà vu made the raven grow dizzy, which he silently told the rose about (though he had lost faith in his floral companion as it had began to wilt and shed it’s pedals an hour or two ago). As one last attempt to make this night possibly end well, he called Makoto for not the first time that night, receiving the same response he had gotten the other times he had tried;

_“Hi hi! You have reached the number of Makoto Tachibana. I am not available right now, so please leave your name and number at the tone! Thank you!”_

Haruka’s hopes came crashing down as his head hit the wooden table in exhaustion. A rose pedal peeled itself off and fluttered harmlessly onto the table.

 

* * *

 

Haruka took the bus home, trying to lose himself in his thoughts as he gazed out the window. Processing how his birthday night had went.

Makoto never showed up. This was the _second_ time in a row. And it hurt even worse that not only was Haruka stood up, but he was stood up _on his birthday_. His chest ached in the pain of betrayal—that was what it was, cruel and complete betrayal. Haruka wondered where on earth Makoto was, and how he could have possibly forgotten such an important night. Not that Haruka was really all that vain enough to deem his birthday _that_ important, but… the fact still remained. And the question still stood: Where was Makoto?

“Get off of me! Let go! What are you doing?”

“You need to come home! Come on, let’s go!”

“No! Get off! Leave me alone!”

The buzz of commotion outside brought reality and Haruka’s world to overlap once more. Out of the corner of his eye, the raven pinpointed a fight breaking out on the pavement beside a street vendor. His attention was stolen from him, and he took in the scene that passed by almost too quickly through the window.

The situation processed in an instant, and Haruka’s eyes widened with shock.

It had to have been. In the darkness of the street, Haruka could see Makoto out there wrestling with the offender—a man in a crossing guard vest—holding him back from the fight that was ensuing. The offender was resisting and flailing about, causing Makoto to struggle in keeping his balance.

It happened so fast, Haruka almost couldn’t register what he saw. He staggered to his feet and ran to the back of the bus, looking out the back window to catch the final glimpses of the scene at hand. Makoto was holding the flailing man back, his mouth moving frantically as he was trying to talk sense into him, but the man retaliated with the swing of his crossing guard sign. He stumbled as he missed, making it apparent that he was not in his right mind. Drunk, most likely.

The last thing Haruka saw before the bus turned the corner was the spilled birthday cake that had become a pile of forgotten mush on the pavement.

 

* * *

 

The next day very easily held the record for the worst of Haruka’s life.

Makoto was waiting for Haruka at the bottom of the hill, both him and his bike leaning up against the rock wall. When they saw each other, the brunet couldn’t even manage a smile to acknowledge his friend’s presence. Haruka approached, getting the immediate vibe that this was going to end horribly.

“I’m sorry about your birthday…” Makoto apologized. His voice was void of energy, sounding like a hoarse murmur just above a whisper. “Something… bad happened.”

Neither one of them could lock eyes. Makoto ended up looking down at his feet, Haruka quickly following suit. Neither male said anything, allowing the air to be full of the voice of the chirping birds—their song was much too happy for their moods.

Makoto took in a shuddery breath, and he finally summoned the energy to look up at Haruka.

“I think… we should separate.”

Haruka didn’t know how to react. Something inside his throat choked him just then, but after that, it was like a weird feeling of absolutely _nothing_. It had been the worst thing he’d ever heard someone say, and yet… he felt no pain, only dullness.  His body had gone numb, as if it was too tired to fight it. Or… perhaps it was because it had already accepted it?

Makoto went on, standing up straight and facing Haruka completely. The cold morning breeze stabbed at them both, but neither of them had the energy to tremble. “There’s a side of my life that’s… very messy.” 

“I know,” Haruka’s voice surprised him. It was oddly calm.

“I admit I’ve hidden things from you…”

“Then you can tell me now.” It was an invitation the same as it was a silent plea for hope. Just a shred of it was all Haruka needed. A sign was all he wanted. A chuckle, a smile, the offerings of a handshake…

But he got nothing. Makoto stayed solemn, his expression like stone in it’s seriousness. His eyes reminded Haruka of the thorny stem of a rose. “There’s a lot I can’t explain right now, but in a while you’ll understand.” 

“That doesn’t sound like something Makoto Tachibana would say.”

There was no more that need be said; it was over. Haruka walked off first, announcing in his own way that their conversation had finished. Makoto sighed, disappointed with himself, and with his bicycle in hand he began to walk uphill, the _opposite_ way Haruka was leaving. Neither one looked back, neither one stopped nor said a word, but Haruka was the first to notice that his cheeks were wet with tears.

 

* * *

 

Makoto sat alone in his music studio, letting the afternoon sun pour into his window. The large grandfather clock that was left to collect cobwebs in the back corner was ticking loudly, causing the fragile stage setup to tremble with every rhythmic swing of the metronome. He sat quietly, staring off into space with his hands playing subconsciously with his key ring.

A door creaked open, bringing the brunet’s attention to a figure that was entering the room in an angry pout. Sharp teeth were bared in an enraged snarl, and crimson eyes looked at the other male with disapproval written all over his expression.

“As of this moment,” Rin spat, taking a wad of bills out of his bag and throwing them angrily into Makoto’s lap, “our contract is over.”

 

**END OF SIDE A**


	5. SIDE B: The Clan of Lost Stars is a Broken One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooookay, so this is where things get kind of weird in the story! Also, apologies to anyone whose shipper hearts can't handle the plot twist-- please forgive me. xD  
> I hope you enjoy this update, and thank you so much for your patience with this one!  
> NOTE: This entire chapter is 3-1 month prior to the events of the last chapter, so please keep that in mind while reading! The rest of the chapters will continue with the main arc of the story, so this is the only weird timeline chapter in this whole thing~

* * *

 

**Three months Prior**

“I don’t know much about psychology, but I think I should warn you… if you keep listening to your friend’s recordings, and he finds out, he’ll be scarred in a way that will be very hard to undo.”

“I just think if he spends too long in this state, he’ll end up with a very unhealthy mindset later in life.”

“That won’t necessarily happen. For him, this might be how he _wants_ to live his life.”

The two men were walking side-by-side, taking a stroll through the park. The scenery was lovely this time of year, with the trees bright and blooming and the healthy green grass soft to the touch. A warm breeze whisked invitingly in the air, accompanying the afternoon sky that was starting to take on a yellow-orange hue. It aided in their conversation, the two took notice with some surprise, that they were the only ones out that day. This was a more private matter, and they were grateful for this coincidence nonetheless.

The younger of the two was Rin Matsuoka, his dark crimson eyes taking on a troubled gleam as his whole face formed into a thoughtful grimace. He mentally cursed out the other in his agitation, simply for the fact that the other was right. Or, at least he probably was, considering the fact that he was a _doctor_ and would definitely know a thing or two about what he was talking about. That was why Rin came to him for advice in the first place. He needed to talk to someone about Haruka.

Haruka…

Ever since that brunet boy had left, the raven hadn’t been his usual self. Of course, being his roommate and childhood friend, Rin had been the first to notice this. His initial reaction had been to just let it go and expect all to end well once Haruka got over it. That’s how everything worked out before. But… as time went on, it made itself known that Haruka was not “getting over it” at all. In fact, it was almost getting _worse_ , and he was falling further and further into a gloomy state of depression each day. It would’ve been an understatement to say that Rin was concerned for his friend. There were days where Haruka would lock himself away in his room, not ever eating or talking to anybody.

Well… that wasn’t entirely true. Haruka _was_ talking to something. Rin had eventually found out about the tape recorder – an audio journal – and without Haruka’s knowledge, Rin listened to a few of the entries. Through the recorder, he heard Haruka’s deep, soothing voice as he simply… talked. Whether it be about how his day went, or random thoughts that went through his head at different times of the day… and it always linked back to how much he missed “you”, as he would say to whoever he was talking to. It didn’t take long for the redhead to realize it was Makoto that he was missing.

The tape recorder… the deepening air of depression… the neurological disease… it was too much for Rin’s shattering heart to handle. He needed to help Haruka. The problem was, he didn’t know _how_. And since Haruka was offering Rin no chance for them to talk and sort it out together, the redhead went to the only other person that might know how to help him: Doctor Ryūgazaki. As he was Rin’s friend as well as Haruka’s doctor, Rin had faith that he would know what to do.

Although he wasn’t the best with coming up with ideas outside of tactics he learned in medical school, Ryūgazaki was _exceptional_ at telling Rin when his solutions had faults that were too risky. Although that in itself was irritating and hope-crushing at times, Rin was grateful for the care that Ryūgazaki exercised when they discussed the topic of Haruka’s health, and even taking the time (like today) to take a walk alongside him through the park.

Rin sighed, running a hand through his hair. All this happened because of that damned brunet… and yet, Rin felt like somehow _he_ was at fault for this. Maybe _he_ should’ve taken better care of Haruka; been a better mentor, a better roommate, a better friend…

Yet, through the self-scolding, the redhead’s head perked up as something crossed his mind in that moment. A single, instantaneous spark buzzed through him and set alight the light bulb in his brain. He turned to face Ryūgazaki, surprising the blue-haired other by the sudden fire in his eyes – the confidence in his smile.

“I have an idea.” He said.

 

 

* * *

 

The nightclub was dark and overly crowded with people, the pungent scent of sweat, alcohol, and cigarette smoke sticking to every surface and stinging Rin’s nose as he entered the place. The place was uncannily _loud_ as well, with a mix of electric guitar and people’s rabid screaming drowning out his thoughts and the constant beat of the drums sending vibrations through every surface and making the redhead’s entire body numb with each rigorous tremor.

Everything about this place put all of his hairs on end; his whole body screamed at him to turn around and _get the hell outta here_ , but Rin knew he couldn’t do that. Haruka was too important to him. He was here to help him. He was here on business…

He was here to meet and old friend.

 

* * *

 

As Rin made his way backstage, he had the misfortune to catch the person he was here to talk with in the middle of a heated dispute.

“So you say you want to leave, and you go?” Rin’s friend was asking. He was a tall, well-built man with nicely defined features and short, dark-brown hair. His droopy teal eyes were locked on the shorter male that had his back loose yet defiantly against the wall.

“I told you a long time ago I wanted to go abroad, Sousuke. You never took it seriously.” The other said, his tone rather threatening despite his outward appearance. His hair was fluffy and a light strawberry-blond color, though it was more _strawberry_ than it was _blond_. The minimal light source (which consisted of a flickering ceiling light) brought out an angry glisten in those violet eyes, with his skinny arms crossed and his cheeks puffing out oddly against his thin face; it was obvious that he was pouting.

“Since when do I have the money to go abroad?” Sousuke let out an exasperated sigh, his fingers fiddling with his key ring in an odd way to vent out his growing frustration. He then leaned towards the other, putting an arm out and placing his hand firmly on the wall next to his head. This made the other tense up.

“If you don’t have the money, you can work for it! You can get a job!” The strawberry-blond replied, making eye contact with Sousuke as he slapped both of his hands against the wall on either side of him. Although his intention was to appear aggressive, that motion was counterproductive as it made him look even more vulnerable as Sousuke leaned in closer.

“Music _is_ my job.” The brunet told him; as he was trying to keep his voice low to avoid any detection, it came out as a low, hoarse growl. As one hand stayed planted firmly in place on the wall, the other continued to flip the key ring around and around on his fingers.

“Forget it! Making music is a dead end. The only person who encourages and supports your music…” The other male grabbed at Sousuke’s hand—the one with the key ring—holding it still and causing the sound of jingling keys to subside. “is no longer here.”

Another silent moment of eye contact. Sousuke raised a brow and quickly ripped his hand out of the other’s grip. He leaned his head in, bringing their faces closer together.

“Kisumi… you’ve changed.” Sousuke murmured softly, his droopy eyes squinting in accusation.

“Maybe _you_ need to change!” Kisumi retorted, pushing Sousuke away with both hands and separating the both of them from the wall with newfound anger. “Ever since your mom died, you’ve been spinning your wheels in the same rut!”

“Maybe I _like_ spinning my wheels.” Sousuke let a small smirk crease his lips, and he defiantly flipped his key ring on his finger once more, the sound of the jingling keys almost taunting in the stillness that followed.

 

* * *

 

The next song was just starting, the electric guitar loudly humming the beginning chords and setting the mood. The drummer was quick to start clacking his drumsticks together to set the rhythm, and the audience followed suite with their cheery clapping. As the lights illuminated the stage one more time, Sousuke approached the microphone with confidence, spitting out the words in a tone not unlike venom;

 

_You finally ran away, disappeared before my eyes_

_You want me to be better to you; you think you need my pity_

_Shut that mouth! You’re polluting the world with your complaints!_

_Pack up your hypocrisy—_

“Stop! Stop! STOP!”

Sousuke, interrupting his own music, shouted into the mic and let his deep, angry voice boom through the speakers, causing the rest of the band to come to a complete halt. Some people let out a cheerful shout just out of their ecstasy-like adrenaline rush during the quiet that followed, while others cursed loudly because of the annoyance of having the music interrupted.

There was one group near the bar, however, that ignored this holdup and continued with their chatter and drinking their alcohol. Sousuke pointed at them belligerently, calling them out in particular.

“Oi, I’m talking about _you_ over there. Could you keep it down?”

“W-what are you going to do about it?” As the group turned their heads (their expressions ranging in either shock, confusion, or agitation), it was a girl that let her voice be heard, loud and clear, yet a little shaky.

“You’re making it hard to sing.” Sousuke said, still speaking through the microphone, in a tone that clearly read, _‘don’t test me’._

“ _Weeellll_ … maybe if you sang just a little bit better… m-maybe just a _teeny_ bit… we wouldn’t be making any noise! Right? Right?” The girl turned to the others she had been previously conversing with, searching for their support in this predicament.

As the others cheered in agreement, Sousuke dropped his guitar onto the stage and stormed over to the bar, an angry flare brightening his eyes as he approached. Unable to contain himself, the brunet aggressively pushed himself into the girl, yet not with enough force to barrel her over (as he could’ve easily done).

“Wait, d-don’t—! Don’t… let’s not fight…!” She backed up, avoiding this aggression with a hint of dread flashing into her expression. “Let’s not make people think we rockers are just crude, violent criminals, ok?”

Sousuke stood still a moment, his hands balled into fists and at the ready by his side. He looked down at the girl with a hostile snarl as she attempted to make peace by gently taking hold of his shirt and smoothing it over, adjusting his jacket collar so that it sat symmetrically on his figure once again. Everyone’s eyes were glued onto the scene, and many muscles were tense as they waited for a fight to break loose any minute.

“You should try to take all that rage inside you… and look— look at me!” The girl interrupted herself as she noticed Sousuke was not paying attention to her and instead had his gaze elsewhere. It took a second growl of “Look at me!” before Sousuke brought his now-bored expression onto the other before him once more.

“Look at me!” She ordered again, tone sharper, to which Sousuke grimaced.

“Where do you want me to look?”

As he turned his face again, the girl caught his chin in his hand and forced it back, and they looked each other in the eyes.

“ _Look_. We’ll find someplace a little quieter and settle this like adults, ok?” She let go and pushed Sousuke off of her, forcing a smile as she took the last remaining shred of dignity and strutted away, calling out “Let’s go!” as she gathered her posse and started to leave.

Sousuke watched her departure with judging eyes. The club was silent, save for the rustling of glass bottles and the sound of boots and high heels hitting the hardwood floor. The brunet sniffed and wiped at his mouth in disgust, swearing under his breath as turned around and began to walk away.

“Slut.”

The girl froze at this, her whole frame sparked with sudden enmity. She whipped around, grabbing the nearest beer bottle, and hit the back of Sousuke’s head with it, the glass shattering into thousands of pieces and alcohol spewing everywhere. As liquid poured down on his hair and into his face, Sousuke turned around to face her, his expression reading nothing but hatred and bellicosity.

That was when the fight broke out.

 

* * *

 

“Which one of you is Yamazaki Sousuke?”

The man belonging to that name looked up from where he was seated, staring at the policeman with a glazed look. The officer handed him a booklet.

“Sign this.”

As he did so, the officer switched the booklet for an envelope, informing him that “This is for you”, and walking off. Attending to more ‘dangerous’ criminals, Sousuke assumed. Because that’s what policeman _did_ at a police department.

Sousuke opened the envelope carefully, confused as to who would be sending him a letter at a time like this. A single eyebrow rose quizzically as he read the letter.

  
_Sousuke,_  
Your allegations with the police has been taken care of. I want to discuss something with you.  
Rin

* * *

 

“You paid for my fines and medical bills?”

“ _And_ the damage to the bar.”

“Why?”

“I need you to do something for me. It’s an emergency.”

Sousuke was sitting comfortably in Rin’s apartment, right foot resting on his left knee and his chin on his hand as he looked at the redhead that sat across from him. Now that he thought about it… it had definitely been a while since they had actually met up and talked like this. They were running such different lives, with Rin in training to be an Olympic swimmer and Sousuke trying to make it big as a musician… their schedules gave them almost no opportunity to hang out. They had both accepted this a while back, agreeing to come up with some excuse later when they could afford to spend the time together.

And for Rin to be using an “emergency” as an excuse… this had to be a big deal.

 

…

 

“You want me to do _what_?” Sousuke frowned, brows furrowing in contemplation.

“I want you to play a role for my friend.”

Rin’s tone was serious, and his expression stiff as stone—Sousuke knew that what he was asking was not a joke.

“Listen, Rin, I’m not an actor.” Sousuke argued.

“I’m not looking for an actor!” Rin replied with a growl, the white gleam of his teeth making an appearance with his subtle snarl.

Sousuke sighed, tilting his head to one side. “Then what’s the role?”

Instead of responding directly, Rin placed something onto the table between them—a tape recorder, Sousuke realized. Hitting the play button, Rin sat back, allowing the words that the deep voice uttered to fill the gap of silence between them.

_“10:00 P.M. Makoto, you suddenly disappeared from my life, and even after so long, I’m still not used to it. I want to make my memories of you and draw them into a comic… but my hands aren’t up to it. I pick up a pen to draw you, and I always end up putting it down. So I decided to take those memories… and tape them. I guess this is how I’ll have to remember you.”_

Sousuke was quiet, looking down at the tape recorder with a deadpan expression as he listened. Rin’s face was one that would remind anybody of a broken heart, but he made no noise of disruption and continued to let the tape role. The sunlight was golden as it filtered through the windows, offering the perfect tranquil setting to spark their imaginations for the scenarios the voice painted with its words.

_“Do you remember that basketball court surrounded by the chain-link fence? I used to sit on the bench by the tree and hold a book over my face, pretending to read, and I would watch you running and jumping on the court._

_“I remember watching you in the classroom where you would give yourself a headache over math problems. During our homeroom, I used to listen to songs on your guitar over and over, and then I’d sneak a bottle of your favorite energy drink into your guitar case._

_“I bet you never realized that when you couldn’t find your bike keys, I was watching you behind the tress and bushes, laughing. It was so cute… how frantic you used to get…”_

A breathy chuckle was picked up as muffled static. With a click, the recording ended.

Sousuke continued to stare at it, as if trying to process all that he had heard. Wasn’t this just some ramble from a starstruck loverboy? And a creepy stalker one, at that? The brunet’s mouth twitched into a look of amusement despite his own disgust.

“The kid in question… his name is Makoto Tachibana,” Rin explained, “He went to high school with Nanase— my friend.”

“What do you want _me_ for? I don’t know this kid,” Sousuke grumbled.

“I’ve been watching a lot of people,” Rin went on, “In terms of age and appearance, you’re a lot like him.”

 

* * *

 

“This is our guitarist and keyboarder, Mikoshiba Seijuuro. He calls himself ‘gregarious’.”

“Very pleased to meet you!” Seijuuro greeted the other redhead good-naturedly and offered him a happy handshake. Rin accepted the handshake, flashing a small (yet slightly uncomfortable) smile in return.

The rest of the group did not seem to notice Rin as he sat down with Sousuke and joined into their circle as they were eating hot pot. Sousuke continued to introduce his band members to the newbie despite this.

“Momotarou, our drummer—”

“I already know you,” Rin replied, looking at the shorter Mikoshiba brother with a sense of amusement, “You’re the one that throws the drumsticks off the stage after every show.”

“Which is why we call him ‘The Groupie Magnet.’” Sousuke murmured, a sarcastic chuckle bubbling low in his throat.

“Don’t listen to them!” Momotarou insisted, voice an energetic whine, “I just like to make new friends!”

The group laughed at this, and Rin got the impression that this was some inside joke.

Finally, Sousuke turned to introduce the pink-haired male. “Shigino Kisumi, lead singer as well as my boyfr—”

“We’re about to break up.” Kisumi said, voice unusually cheery yet at the same time rather _threatening_. This caused a bout of uncomfortable silence to strike between all five of them, and Sousuke lowered his head, leaning over his bowl to eat the contents and hiding his face.

Taking this silence as a chance to say something, Rin seized his opportunity. “In… in the future, I’d like you all to call him Makoto around my friend.”

This didn’t make the situation any less heavy, however, and Rin was only greeted with the sound of the boiling hot pot water and the sight of people averting his gaze and eating their noodles and vegetables. Rin ignored the awkward feeling that was settling in the atmosphere and stood up to leave. He cleared his throat.

“Uh… Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

While the two of them were out shopping, Rin held up two jackets in front of Sousuke. One was a deep green velvet with white fur encasing the inside of the hood, and the other was made of tan-colored leather.

“Which one do you want?”

Sousuke looked up at the redhead, irritated. “You said I still had two weeks. I’m nowhere near ready!”

“Haru is working at the local water park’s charity event tomorrow,” Rin said, “It’s the perfect opportunity. Have you tried on those green contacts I got you?”

“How am I supposed to memorize all these lines in one night?!”

Rin looked at him, giving the same stiff and stubborn expression he had given the brunet a few days beforehand when he had initially asked him to do this job. “That’s not all you have to do,” he told him, “You also have to listen to all those tapes tonight.”

In response to the exasperated ‘are-you-fucking-serious’ look that Sousuke was giving him, Rin turned around and proceeded to put the leather jacket back on the rack.

 

* * *

 

 _Haruka stared down at the rabbit he was now suddenly holding, the both of them tense in surprise. Out of both speechlessness and a rush of sudden nerves, Haruka hiccupped, causing him and the rabbit to bounce together slightly_.

“So what exactly do you want me to do?”

“Make Haruka fall back in love with Makoto Tachibana.”

_“Haru-chan, it really is you! You... remember me, right? I’m Makoto Tachibana.”_

Sousuke looked at Rin as if he had just spat out something completely incoherent. “No matter how much we look alike, we’re not twins. How will Nanase not be able to tell the difference? Unless there’s… something wrong with his head?”

_“You’ve changed a lot. I didn’t even recognize you.”_

“He’s perfectly intelligent; he just has some problems with his memory.” Rin insisted, offering a small smile. “Haru has… a genetic disorder. He takes pills… and those pills cause significant memory loss.”

_“Rin… Is this medicine making me stupid?”_

“So, this Tachibana… he’s in a band?”

_“And he was a really good guitar player. Our music teacher wouldn’t shut up about him.”_

All traces of a smile disappeared off Rin’s face.

“If he were still alive… he probably would be.”

Sousuke’s eyes narrowed. “He’s dead?”

“Car accident.” Rin avoided Sousuke’s gaze by looking out the window, trying to regain his composure with deep breaths through his nose. “But… Haru doesn’t know. The school thought that the news would badly affect other students, so they told the classmates he had simply transferred to another school.”

 

* * *

 

**One month later**

 

_“Makoto, it’s my 18 th birthday today, and I just secretly made a very unrealistic wish. I wished that someday, you’d suddenly reappear with your guitar and sing a song just for me. I don’t think words could describe how happy that would make me.”_

Haruka clicked a button on the tape recorder, and the voice –– _his_ voice — stopped. He looked up at the green-eyed male and gave him that small smile.

“And that’s how, when I least expected it, my dream came true.”

Both him and the man he believed to be Makoto were sitting along the beach, enjoying the ocean breeze and the sound of the waves, the sun as it was setting and sinking into the never-ending horizon, polishing a golden glaze onto everything its dying rays could touch. The two young men were no exception to this, and they basked in the warm glow together, their bodies so close together they appeared as one in the shadows they cast behind them.

“All these years, you’ve been speaking into that tape recorder?” Makoto’s eyes grew wide with innocent wonder, the golden light causing the deep green orbs to glisten. The raven nodded in response, and then suddenly grew worried.

“Is it stupid?”

Makoto panicked in his hesitation. “Well, no. I mean— maybe. _I_ don’t… well…um… N-no.”

In Makoto’s inability to make a coherent thought, Haruka couldn’t help but give a muffled laugh. Part of him felt embarrassed having just admitted that he had kept a journal of his life and dedicated it to his long-lost best friend, but his worry had quickly evaporated when the brunet laughed at _himself_ and carried on with the conversation after an attempt to cool down his reddening face.

“So, why do you only record into side A?”

“Because…” Haruka looked down at the tape he held in his hand and turned it over, running a thumb along the other side of it. “I leave side B for _you_ to fill.”

“Me?” Makoto studied the tape recorder in the other’s hand, taking on a studious, brooding look as he did. In the moment of still silence that followed, Haruka smiled again and nudged the brunet’s shoulder, knocking him out of his zoned-out state.

“Don’t be so serious.” Jeered the raven.

Makoto grinned at him, as if in apology.

“Everyday around this time… I start saying crazy things.” Haruka went on in confession, dark eyes gazing upon the ocean waves as they crept along the shoreline. “It’s probably the medicine wearing off.” He dismissed, staring out at the horizon for a long while in silence, deep in his own thoughts, allowing the sun to illuminate and emphasize the smooth features of his face. The raven’s eyelids fluttered as the rhythm of the ocean brought him to further calm and peace, almost to a dreamy state.

The only thing that managed to snap him out of such a state was in the instant where kind fingers tilted his head away from the horizon and warm, impatient lips met his own.

It had happened all at once, but it didn’t feel rushed or sudden at all. Instead, it felt perfectly natural, as if it was supposed to work out this way. With both males’ eyes gently coming to a close, they felt the other’s presence envelope them and become the only thing in the world that mattered. As Makoto leaned in closer to apply more pressure, one of his large, comforting hands grabbed hold of Haruka’s and held it close to his chest. The raven could feel the strong heart pulse in the other’s ribcage while his own beat excitedly in his ears. It was natural, it was warm, it was inviting…

It was _Makoto._

…Right?

The brunet was the one to break away first, his mouth still agape afterwards as he struggled to catch his breath. From his own facial expression, it looked like he had even taken _himself_ off-guard in his own movements, his cheeks a light shade of pink and his eyes a glossy jade. It took him no time at all for his open mouth to transform into his signature smile.

Haruka only stared at him silently, and as realization dawned on him, his eyes began to widen considerably.

“Don’t be so serious.” Makoto joked, voice hushed.

The raven looked down, hoping it was the just the setting sun causing his face to heat up. Noticing that the other still had a hold of his hand, Haruka squeezed at it reassuringly. “Are you afraid?”

“Of what?”

“The passage of time.”

“Haru…”

Makoto studied the other’s expression for a long while. Still keeping a grasp on the other’s much smaller hand, the brunet used his free hand to pull the soft raven hair out of Haruka’s face and tuck it behind his ear. When they met eyes, they both felt the happy presence of home.

“I… want you to be my boyfriend.” Makoto admitted softly.

Haruka’s heart skipped. Eyes widening once more, he looked away, almost as if he were avoiding the comment—the proposal. “What kind of candy do you like?”

As the other’s brow twitched into a look of confusion, the raven pulled out three small hard candies from his pocket. He looked back at the brunet determinedly.

“Apple, orange, or peach?”

Makoto smiled. “Orange.”

Putting the other two away, Haruka unwrapped the orange one and lifted it to Makoto’s mouth. The green-eyed male opened his mouth obediently and allowed the other to pop it in. The wonderful sugary orange taste sparked his taste buds, and for a split moment, Makoto focused solely on the sweetness of the candy, and Haruka’s attention was all on the way those beautiful green eyes lit up in satisfaction.

“The taste will help you remember this moment,” Haruka explained, both hands holding on to one of Makoto’s, his dark blue eyes aglow with emotion, “The moment when we became a couple.”

The sky burst into the color of pure gold when Makoto leaned in to kiss Haruka again.

 

* * *

 

Rin stormed into Sousuke’s studio, finding the brunet in question sitting on the stage and bringing a bottle of some type of alcohol to his lips and his droopy teal eyes mesmerized on whatever movie the ancient machine he called a “television” was displaying on its jacked-up screen.

“Sousuke, _what_ did you do?”

The burly male paused mid-swig and cocked an eyebrow curiously, coughing lightly as he put the bottle down on the nearby coffee table. “Oh, what’s wrong now?” He groaned as he stood up and began to walk the opposite way.

Rin followed him around the room in pursuit, restating his question; “What did you do to Haruka? He was acting all crazy when he came home today!”

“You told me to formalize the relationship,” He replied. There was a pause, and as the silence settled, they both knew that that answer was not acceptable. Rin continued to stare him down, and not for the first time in his life, Sousuke related his friend’s attitude with that of a mother bear.

“…I kissed him.”

Rin looked like he had just been slapped. “You did _what?_ ”

“I _kissed him_.” Sousuke said again, firmer this time.

The redhead pointed at his friend in dumbfounded accusation, struggling to find his voice. “S-Sousuke, who do you think you are? Y-you can’t do that!”

“ _Oh,_ so if my heart’s not in it, you say I’m unprofessional, but if I play the role, I’m overstepping my boundaries?” The brunet threw his hands up in one large, dramatic motion of ‘I give up’. “Rin, you aren’t exactly making this easy for me.”

“I…” Rin glanced down, “I didn’t ask you to be extreme about it…!”

“Rin,” Sousuke studied his friend’s expression, his teal eyes squinting in thought, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re jealous.”

“I am _not_ jealous of you, you—” The redhead sputtered, gritting his teeth and whispering colorful profanities as pigment dyed his cheeks to match his eyes. With a huff, Rin turned away and brought a hand to his face whilst the other hand struggled to take a pile of papers out of his back and forcefully shove it into Sousuke’s general direction. “Just—fucking take this.”

Sousuke took the papers and looked at them inquiringly. “What’s this?”

“A script,” his friend told him, “this way, you won’t overstep any boundaries and you’ll be able to stay in character. Tachibana was… a little more cheery than you are, so…”

As his eyes scanned the pages, the brunet quirked a brow. “‘If you want to know what running feels like, you can borrow my legs’? This is the lamest, sappiest shit I’ve ever seen.”

“Cut the crap,” Rin snarled, “You kissed Haru, and you’re afraid that _that_ is too much?”

“I was just trying to make it _realistic!_ ” Sousuke argued, but his words fell on deaf ears as Rin was already walking out the door.


	6. SIDE B: A Silk Web of Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! Time to publish the weirdest chapter of this whole thing, in my opinion. A little bit nervous about adding an anonymous father figure in the mix-- hopefully you guys can see past that a little bit! Thank you so much for your patience and your kind comments. I'll try to be more consistent with my updates, and possibly upload the next one for you guys before my two-week trip to China. No promises, though!

“When people finally decide to jump into the river of love, do you know what the last expression on their face is?”

Kisumi Shigino pointed to his own face, his violet eyes squinting and welling up with an emotion relative to passion, and his mouth curved into an amused, dorky grin. It was that expression that he had nicknamed _‘past the point of no return’_ and mimicked perfectly the look Sousuke had worn on his face the last time both he and Haruka had joined the Wild Whales gang for hot pot. Unbeknownst to the brunet in question, no doubt; he had no idea how easy emotions broke through on his face.

The two other people that occupied the room at that moment—Seijuuro and Momotarou—gawked at the pink-haired male in wonder, the gears in their red heads turning wildly as they put the two pieces together.

“But Sousuke won’t actually _fall_ for him, right?” Momo’s voice was surprisingly somber.

Kisumi merely shrugged. “It’s too early to tell,” he decided, “but I wouldn’t put it past him to get into that kind of troublesome rut.”

“What makes you say that?” The older brother brought a hand to his stubbly chin in thought.

Kisumi smirked. “He ‘likes spinning his wheels’, or so he tells me. But if he comes back crying to me… he’d be out of his goddamned mind if he thinks I’m going to help him.”

 

* * *

  


“I remember you used to study swimming in high school.” Makoto was saying.

Haruka nodded slowly. “But after I graduated and you had disappeared, my lungs stopped working and I almost drowned during a practice. Rin was too protective of me to let me swim after that.”

“If you had the chance, what would you…?”

“I would get back into the water without any hesitation.” And that statement was believable, for Haruka’s answer had been immediate, as if he had anticipated the question eagerly.

Makoto blinked in shock, taken aback by the raven’s eagerness. “But the doctor told you it would _kill_ you.”

“But everybody wants to shine—just once—in their life. Don’t they?”

 

* * *

 

“Have a nice day, sir!”

Sousuke was walking out of the local flower shop with an arrangement of deep blue forget-me-nots. Not that he would admit it, but this purchase had been an impulse buy—he had seen them through the window of the store while he had been on a stroll and their rich, soft color had immediately reminded him of Nanase’s eyes.

Nanase… that raven-haired train wreck…

Never before had Sousuke known anyone that was so dysfunctional and so out of touch with the reality they lived in. His story was certainly a tragic one, as far as Sousuke could tell; dead lover, neurological disease, crushed dreams… truly a mess. Sousuke couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity.

Okay, maybe it was more than just a twinge…

Sousuke scowled to himself, staring down at the bouquet of flowers, realizing what he had just done and what it _meant_. It felt like a curse, having Nanase on his mind this frequently. Sure, he was trying to get into the part and make it as realistic as possible, but when it affected his daily schedule and interfered with his bank account with sudden urges to buy prissy things like _flowers_ , there was something wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

_Damn it..._

A cheery ringtone chirped in his pocket, snapping Sousuke out of his panic. Fumbling with the flowers, the brunet managed to pull his phone to his ear, answering the call.

“Yeah?”

The frantic voice that answered him was of an older man.

“Where are you? _Get down here and get your dad under control!_ There’s construction going on; it’s dangerous!”

With widened eyes, Sousuke started to run towards the northern intersection, the flowers falling into a neglected heap on the pavement.

 

 

* * *

 

Sousuke met the bustling crowd that had gathered on the street corner, pushing his way in through the pedestrians, vendors, and police officers.

“I’m sorry, I’ll take him home,” Sousuke told the policemen that questioned his motives, reaching out to grab the man presumed to be his father’s jacket. The man retaliated by thrashing about wildly, threatening to hit people with his pseudo traffic-warden sign.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere!” He protested.

Sousuke grabbed him by the jacket collar and brought him closer to his face, locking their eyes. His father’s eyes were bloodshot and his every crevice reeked of booze and sweat.

“You’re getting in the way of their work!” Sousuke said.

“They c’n do their job, and I c’n direct traffic!” Was the retort, “’M not in the way!”

“What does this role you play accomplish?” Sousuke had to shout to speak above the onlookers who were quickly driven to silence, “Are you that deep in denial? _Mom is gone!_ ”

His father took a step back, swaying to either side in his drunken stance. He looked confused. “Who says she’s gone?” He asked, “She’s _right here!_ She’s always been here!”

“She’s _dead!_ ” Sousuke roared, his face a haunting mix of livid anger and pain. “She is _not here!_ She’s in an _urn—_ ”

_“What are you saying?!”_

In his rage, the father lashed out and punched his son in the face with a brutal fist, causing Sousuke to jerk his head to the right and stumble a few steps back from the force.

Sousuke kept his head angled to the right, his gaze cast down to the ground. The anger had left him after that punch, and now all that remained was a look of defeat. He took in a shaky breath; his voice had fallen to a hoarse murmur.

“You think getting drunk every night is missing her. You think directing traffic is a good way to honor her memory. You spend every day lost in your own fantasies!” A look of pain flashed into his eyes, and Sousuke turned back to look at his mess of a father once more. “…Have you ever thought about _me?_ When she died, it hurt me too! And what do you do? It’s been four years… but every morning I wake up and it feels like she left yesterday. Every time I decide to pick myself up, every time I try to walk out of that shadow… you beat me right back.”

His father’s lip quivered and his voice escaped him in small whimpers; he was crying. Sousuke continued, finding it harder and harder to find a voice to speak with as time went on, “Do you think she’d want to see you like this?”

“D’ya think she’d wanna see ya drop out of college?” The man spat back.

Those words stung, causing Sousuke to grit his teeth. “Those are two entirely different problems!”

“Then _take care of the one that’s yours_!"

As the older man began to storm off, Sousuke lunged forward and wrapped his arms around him tightly, holding him back aggressively.

“You need to come home! Come home with me _now!_ ”

“No! Ge’ off! Leave me alone!”

As the two of them tussled and gripped at each other’s throats and threw ferocious punches at each other, a transit bus sped by on the road beside them.

A pair of dark blue eyes took in the scene in horror through the bus window.

 

 

* * *

 

“Four years ago, on a rainy night, Sousuke’s mother died in a car crash at that intersection. After that, his dad had a nervous breakdown, and he transformed from a taxi driver who had never even touched alcohol into a drunk just scraping by on welfare.”

Kisumi’s voice was quiet and solemn, his violet gaze cast to the ground as he explained all that he knew. On either side of him was the Mikoshiba duo— all three of them acted humble from where they were seated upon an old, rusty set of stairs. Rin was watching them carefully, his interest piqued, yet it was hard to tell with the way he kept his head down and his red orbs only giving the band members a mere side glance.

A moment of silence filled the empty basement, and it was Seijuuro that finally broke it, taking his turn to add his two cents.

“Sousuke was actually really attached to her. When his dad wouldn’t budge about it, his mom secretly allowed him to study music. So when his mom died—well, he and his dad didn’t have much to talk about, you see…”

“So that’s his story…” Rin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “When he told Haru that his parents were on sabbatical abroad, I had thought he was trying to be vain. But… Sousuke and I— we’re really close friends. Why didn’t he tell _me_ this?”

“He really, _really_ hates talking about his family with other people, including us.” Momotarou explained, “We had to ask around to find out what we know.”

Rin grumbled, heartbroken, and kicked away the empty trashcan that was rolling too close to his feet.

 

 

* * *

 

            An equally as heartbroken Sousuke had slumped back to the run-down den that he called home. As he opened the door, he let out a groan of exhaustion and aching muscles. Rubbing the back of his neck, he turned on one of the lights, his droopy eyes having to squint as they adjusted to the illumination of his empty little hut.

 Or… perhaps it wasn’t as empty as he thought.

A sudden blast of rock and roll riffs caught Sousuke off-guard, and he stared dumbfoundedly at the four people that occupied the stage; Seijuuro, Momo, Kisumi, and—was that Rin center-stage? Indeed it was, and he was clad in the most ridiculous rocker outfit and punk make-up. Just the sight of it alone had a smirk forming on the very subtle outskirts of the brunet’s lips. After a few measures of riffs, Rin had gripped the mic (although very unprofessionally) and started to sing into it in his best English—

 

_‘You are my Sunshine, my only Sunshine,_

_You make me happy when skies are grey_

_You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you_

_Please don’t take my Sunshine away’_

 

There were several measures of instrumental where the band continued to rock out in the most ridiculous way, bringing Sousuke _almost_ chuckling in laughter. Was this his friend’s way of trying to cheer him up? If so, it was… oddly working. When the backup guitarists and drummers stopped and the room succumbed once more to silence, Sousuke grinned and clapped his hands in applause.

Rin tried to regain his breath, hanging onto the microphone in recovery. “That,” he panted, “is a song… that I listen to almost every day with Haru. So… I just want to dedicate that performance… to the brave—to the uncannily handsome—Sousuke Yamazaki!”

Momotarou shook a small tambourine after Rin’s breathless speech for emphasis.

Sousuke kept a smile, though he looked rather sad and wistful at the previous statement. “How is he?” He asked.

Rin shook his head, still breathing heavy, “A-after he came back, he locked himself in his room. He wouldn’t talk to me.”

Gaze cast to the ground, Sousuke let out a heavy sigh. “Listen…,” he murmured, tone hoarse and melancholy, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

 

* * *

 

_“That’s not something Makoto Tachibana would say.”_

Haruka was right—it wasn’t something Makoto would say. But still, the taller male had to pester him further, while he still had the chance. While Haruka was still standing there, dark blue eyes searching for a sign of hope. There they stood, the fork between the roads to Haruka’s house and the University. The day was dyed in golds and pinks, and the atmosphere heavy and horrible; definitely “worst day ever” material.

“Why?” Makoto—no, _Sousuke_ asked, “What do you mean?”

“Makoto was honest,” Haruka said, “and he didn’t give up. He didn’t make excuses for himself.”

A desperate look broke onto the brunet’s face. He sucked in a breath, “How am I supposed to be exactly the person you remember? Making excuses is better than lying, right?”

“So you’ve never told a lie?”

Haruka took a few steps forward, his small frame standing brave and his chin stiff as he looked up into the other’s eyes—those pretty green orbs. The work of colored contact lenses, unbeknownst to the raven-haired male. He squinted, breath leaving him in a quiet sigh, “Makoto, what color is your father to you?”

“What?”

“Your father isn’t a professor on sabbatical abroad, is he?”

Haruka turned to leave, walking in the direction of his house. He hid behind the bushes and pillars that marked the fork in the road, his vision blurring as tears clouded his eyes. For a minute, he stood there silently, wondering—waiting—to see if his lover would follow. One last trial. Would the boy he assumed to be Makoto pass the test?

But it was the brunet that sighed, assuming that Haruka was already heading up the hill. He was long gone. He had abandoned the taller male. So it was Sousuke that gripped the handles of his white bike and turned it around, heading up the hill towards the university without so much as a second glance down the way he came.

So he had failed the test.

Haruka leaned against the stone pillar, numb and limp in his defeat.

Perhaps Makoto had changed a lot more than Haruka had thought…

 

* * *

 

That night, Sousuke made an attempt to visit Haruka, only to find the lights out, the doors locked, and the people supposedly inhabiting the place unresponsive to pestering knocks or rings of the doorbell. He did, however, find Haruka’s tape recorder on the porch swing. The brunet had taken it home; he didn’t want it to get stolen or ruined, and with nobody answering the door, what else was there to do? So when he returned home, he listened to the latest entry, finding quickly that it probably was not a coincidence the tape recorder had ended up in his hands.

_“Makoto, this is a story I heard. A man’s wife was hit by a car on a rainy day and died. After that, every time it rained, the man went to that intersection and directed traffic. It’s a very moving story. I believe… it’s a very beautiful way to grieve. But, I went to see that man today, and I told him another story. That his son lost his direction in life and the courage to go forward because of all the grieving._

_When I was in high school, it started to dawn on me that I might have the same disease my father had. I was hopeless for a while, but then someone told me that since we can’t change the way things are, the best we can do is change how we see things. People who always complain about life never really find the beauty in it. Actually, the person I want to say that to the most is Makoto. Makoto, the communication failures in the past might be because you haven’t put on your raincoat and walked back into that unbearable memory, found the root of your pain, and cut it out.”_

…

Sousuke returned to the intersection once more, finding his father continuing his day-to-day, self-inflicted task of directing the traffic there in the pouring rain. Unwavering, undaunted, determined as ever. It was dark, the clouds just as reluctant to leave their post or stop their relentless cascade of rain as the pseudo traffic guard. But Sousuke wasn’t planning on uprooting either of them from their spots. That was where they were supposed to be, after all.

A sad smile crossed Sousuke’s face, and the emotions buried in his eyes seemed to be returned with the same gaze exchanged by his father.

“Dad… Let’s stop fighting.”

“…Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

            The next few days had passed in silence. It had become apparent to Sousuke that the message Haruka had left on the tape recorder had not intended to go unheard. It was as if the raven-haired boy had planned this—as if this was his own weird way of showing that the relationship between them hadn’t gone completely to hell. There was still hope. Or, at least, that’s what Haruka’s air-riddled skull was determined to believe.

But that was okay. After all, that infectious hope was probably the reason Sousuke even saw Haruka again after that slip-up.

 Sousuke let out a sigh as he walked into his little wreck of a home. With the sunlight pouring in warmly through the window and the birds chirping outside with their happy, melodic tunes, it seemed more inviting and “homely” than usual. It was almost suspicious, how happy the day was. A flash of movement caught the brunet’s eye, and with a slight grunt of confusion he turned to see Haruka standing there, a small smile adorning his soft face, not unlike how a puppy would greet its master as he comes home.

“Makoto. I bought two cups. You use the big one, and I’ll use the small one.”

He gestured almost shyly to the two mugs in his hand, indicating which one was whose with his eyes. Sousuke couldn’t help but stare down at the smaller boy, dumbfounded by his nonchalant tone. Wasn’t he supposed to be mad? Or at least a _little_ hurt from what had happened only a few days ago with what felt like the harshest break-up ever? But no, he didn’t seem phased at all.

But before Sousuke could open his mouth to verbally display his confusion on the matter, his eyes were captured by the movement of fabric being rustled by the wind. He looked behind Haruka, seeing a homemade quilt had been hung up on his wall, just above the stage. It wasn’t too flashy, but the design was simplistic, cute, and clear as the day; a dolphin and an orca whale taking up a large portion of the quilt in the center, their positions rounded out to make a pattern similar to yin and yang. Sousuke felt himself suck in a quiet breath, and he could only stare up at it. Haruka took notice of the other being taken off-guard and turned to look behind himself to look at it as well. He blinked, as if not concerned by its presence at all, and looked back at Sousuke in clarification;

“I sewed this. Do you like it?” Then, quickly, “Oh—and your towels are old and falling apart, so I made you two new ones.”

Sousuke didn’t respond. He swallowed, still staring up at the quilt, his muscles tensing up rather strangely. Something was hitting him hard, like a shot to the heart. Or, was it more like a wave…?

Whatever it was he was feeling, his unresponsiveness caused Haruka’s brow to furrow, and he fidgeted about, discomforted and very much bothered by the silence. Perhaps he didn’t like it? He walked over to stand beside the brunet, looking up at his own work, trying to judge it and critique it in the stunned silence.

To try and cover his tracks, the blue-eyed boy tried to amend any mistake that the other found in his art, he blurted out a self-conscious… _excuse_ of sorts. “I didn’t have enough time, so it might not look very good—”

But Haruka’s hinted apologies and excuses were cut off. Sousuke turned his head to look down at the smaller male, face soft and eyes wet with oncoming tears. Without a word, the brunet leaned down and wrapped his arms around Haruka, burying his face in the other’s shoulder. The raven-haired male stood motionless for a time, unsure how to handle this sudden physical contact. It was when he put his hands on his friend’s back, patting it in awkward reassurance, that he felt the bulkier body against his actually beginning to tremble.

The quietest of sobs escaped Sousuke, and he held on tighter to the smaller body, feeling guiltier all the same. This was the sweetest, most thoughtful gift anybody had ever given him. And yet—

_Why are you being so nice to a fraud like me?_


	7. SIDE B: He Suits You Better Than I Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! I finished this before I embark on my journey overseas. Hopefully the fact that I rushed it a little bit doesn't take away from the quality or appeal for all you wonderful people reading this. Expect the next installment to take a little while-- this upcoming month will be one without hardly any time to write.  
> Yeah, the "relationship" between Kisumi and Sousuke is kind of a weird one... please bear with it. ^^; And I know hardly anything about Kisumi, so sorry if he seems... bratty? He kinda needed to be to fit this role...  
> Thank you so much for your patience and understanding, and once again, thanks for reading!

For the first time in a while, Sousuke’s home was full of radiant excitement and the loud noise only a small party could bring. It was about time the Wild Whales had a band practice together—though it wasn’t necessarily a practice as it was more than just the four of them on this occasion. The booze was passed around joyously, the beat of Momo’s tambourine allowing the guests to hop around and dance to their heart’s content, illuminated by the warmth of the sun through the dusty windows. Sousuke couldn’t remember the last time they had hung out like this. But perhaps it had been for the better; although the place was loud and lively, there was no real cheer that enveloped the room. Or, at least the atmosphere that surrounded him and Kisumi.

Violet eyes rolled with uncanny sass as the pink-haired male looked away, bringing a bottle of beer to his lips and taking a drink. Sousuke continued to watch him, very much determined to get what he was pestering the other for in that moment. The soft cheering of the happier people on the other end of the room prevented any true silence to fall between the two ex-lovers. Noticing how long Kisumi was purposefully taking, Sousuke took a step forward, his hands folded by his lips as he raised a brow knowingly.

“It’s not that I don’t _want_ to help,” Kisumi sighed, turning to look back at the other male as he continued, “I don’t hate Haru or anything. But—”

“He needs an opportunity like this,” Sousuke interrupted, swiping both of his hands down to his side in a dramatic motion of helplessness.

“But we don’t need anyone else.”

Sousuke’s facial expression changed into a sad puppy-dog look, turquoise eyes widening in a needy plea.

“What’s that look for?” Kisumi growled, realizing a little too late that the silent begging was a pry to make him speak. When Sousuke continued to make such a pathetic face, knowing it was working, Kisumi had to look away once more to prevent his softer side from showing and a shade of red to coat his face. “N-no, I’m not—!”

“Give him a chance!” Sousuke moved to be in Kisumi’s line of sight once more, displaying how urgent he was about this. He put a hand on the pillar beside the pink-haired boy, leaning in closer.

Kisumi then decided to play another card, attempting to change the topic. “I’m glad you’re getting over it so fast— over _us._ ”

Sousuke was silent, taken aback by the sudden twist in the topic and how _hurt_ the other sounded. In this silence, Kisumi realized he had the upper hand, and he used this to dominate the conversation, not hesitating to ask the hard-hitting question;

“Are you in love with him?”

The brunet took a step back, withdrawing his hand from the pillar. He scratched the back of his neck, unsure how to answer that. _Unable_ to answer that. “…Do you believe in fate?” He asked.

Kisumi wasn’t amused. “ _Spare me,_ ” he said, a defiant look in his eye as he took a step forward to close the growing gap between them. As Sousuke continued to take a few steps back, it looked as if the pink-haired male was cornering him— which inevitably was what happened. Sousuke’s back gently collided with another pillar, and he stared at the other, their eyes locking. “I’m asking if you’re in love with Haru.”

Sousuke was still silent, expression solid and deadpan. In his frustrations, however, his eyes glanced away, setting Kisumi off.

“I tried everything I knew,” Kisumi said, “to get you to quit being so selfish. And I never could. And then _he_ shows up and bats his eyes and all of a sudden you’re thinking about other people?”

In the heat of the moment, the lead singer had raised his voice enough that the music and dancing behind them had abruptly came to a stop. The guests all looked over at the drama that was unfolding, baffled gazes boring into Sousuke and causing him to grow uncomfortable.

“What in the world did Haru _do_ to you?” Kisumi asked, voice soft. Defeated.

Sousuke drew in a breath, glancing down. The other boy backed away, looking around at the flabbergasted people and the silence that ensued. It was enough to coax the strawberry blond to continue his story, and a small smile came back to his face.

“Do you remember how you chased me?” Kisumi crossed his arms in his growing confidence.

Sousuke looked up, suddenly responsive. “Of course I remember,” he took a few steps forward, “You wanted me to show you I meant it… so I dropped out of school for you.”

“Yes,” The lead singer’s smile turned into a dark yet satisfied smirk. “Then show me that you mean it again. That’s not over the line, is it?”

Sousuke was once more standing strong in front of the lead singer, pleased to hear that there was a chance he would actually be willing to help. “What do you want?”

“Go smash that guitar.”

In clarification, Kisumi pointed over to a lone guitar that stood by the stage. Sousuke looked over at it, his eyes widening slightly as the order sunk in.

 

* * *

 

Sousuke opened the door to the building, allowing Haruka to step inside first. The smell of chlorine was the first to hit the raven-haired boy’s senses, and as his eyes adjusted, he was taken by surprise to see a large swimming pool before him. There were a handful of people presumably training in or around it, some doing warm-up stretches while others were diving into the water upon a coach’s command. Haruka stood there in awe, taking the beauty of it in while his heart yearned to join them.

“My friend told me this swimming club was about to have a competition, but they still need a freestylist for the relay. So… I recommended you.”

Haruka’s eyes widened in disbelief. “…Me?”

“Now you have the chance.” Sousuke’s voice was husky yet very pleased, and he presented the other with a pair of purple and black swimming trunks that he had stored in his jacket pocket. “You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

This new responsibility sunk in slowly. A smile formed on Haruka’s face—one of the biggest Sousuke had ever seen him give. With a sudden burst of excitement, Haruka made his way to the locker room, gripping his new pair of swimming trunks in his hands as if for dear life.

 

* * *

 

It was his only guitar. It was the one that had carried him this far in his life and budding career. It was expensive, crafted with the finest quality care. It was painful to imagine no longer having it by his side, at his fingertips.

“Y-you’re kidding, right?” Sousuke turned to look back at Kisumi, a laugh caught in his throat as if this was some sort of joke, “I’ve had that guitar for years. You know that!”

“Letting Haru join that swimming relay is as important to him—to _me_ — as that guitar is to you. _You_ know that, right?”

Sousuke’s jaw clenched. With no more than just a grunt and a determined nod, he stormed off towards the stage and gripped the guitar by the neck, his stride angry as he began to head outside. The Mikoshiba’s called out to him, chased him outside, but nothing they did could stop what was happening.

“Oi, Sousuke—! Where are you going?!”

“Y-Yamazaki, wait!”

Once Sousuke’s feet were stomping along hard cement pavements, he brought the guitar above his head and swung it down with all of his strength. The body of the instrument crashed along the ground with a large boom and shattered the finely crafted wood into chunks, spraying everywhere. An ugly chord rang through the strings as if in protest. But it wasn’t enough. The brunet kept going, lifting the battered instrument in the air again and bringing it back down. This time, the neck of the guitar and bits of the strings were the only thing truly left, the remains of the base spread out this way and that in sharp, jagged pieces from it like a bouquet of wooden thorns. A large, hollow chunk of the guitar lay nearby, and with his vision growing blurry and red with adrenaline-fueled rage and bitterly angry tears, the brunet stomped on top of it, the fragile wood breaking beneath his weight.

After all, if he was going to smash the guitar his mother had given him, he had to serve it _some_ justice by going all the way with it.

 

* * *

 

Sousuke watched Haruka heading to the coach for his first swimming class in a long time, a bittersweet pain in his chest. He turned to see Kisumi standing there in the doorway, as if he was there to watch Haruka’s practice as well. Kisumi shrugged, as if unbothered by the situation, offering a small smile. Sousuke forced a smile in return, the memory of the smashed guitar coming back and piercing deep— much like the jagged edges of the instrument’s leftover wooden pieces.

Kisumi sighed and shook his head, still smiling sadly. “You’ll never be Makoto Tachibana.”

“I know.”

Kisumi turned and prepared to leave. As he made his way out of the door, Sousuke turned to look at Haruka once more as he prepared to leap into the water. But the brunet was distracted just then, and he darted out of the center for only a moment. There was something that needed to be done first.

“Kisumi!”

The strawberry blond in question turned to look at his ex-lover, confusion clearly written on his face. They looked at each other in silence.

At last, Sousuke sighed and offered a small yet genuine smile. “…Thank you.”

Kisumi nodded, a sudden look of heartbreak on his face, and he turned and walked abruptly away without another word.

 

* * *

 

A week had passed. Haruka’s training to be a competitive swimmer was going more than smoothly, and he hadn’t had any problems with his lungs or limbs so far. Classes were daily, and each one was even better than the last as the raven-haired male was growing more and more confident in his abilities. Every day, he was getting faster, stronger… he was finding that swimming truly was what he remembered it to be. Sousuke watched his practices regularly, and he could tell by how radiant Haruka was when he was practically soaring to the other end of the pool that he was truly in his element. This was what he was born to do. And no neurological disease or “grouchy godfather” figure was going to stop that. But this “grouchy godfather” was certainly going to try.

Rin didn’t know about these practices at all, until one day his intuition got the better of him and he decided to snoop around Haruka’s room while he was at his college classes. He had hid it well—Rin found the swimming suit buried beneath his pile of treasures in a weaved basket beside his bed, his lamp sitting on top of the lid. (Whether that was supposed to suppress suspicion or heighten it, Rin wasn’t sure—but it certainly made the basket an easy target.)

 Holding the nylon cloth in his hands, Rin let out a groan. “You _idiot_ ,” he hissed under his breath to nobody in particular, and a flash of worry suddenly coursed through him. The doctor’s words echoed menacingly through his head as he angrily threw the swimsuit back into the basket, slamming the lid on top of it and hurriedly running out of the room.

 

* * *

 

 

Sousuke was silent, gazing up at the quilt that Haruka had made him. He allowed his mind to wander, taking in every little detail. The beautiful use of blues and purples, (the only warm color being the small accent of red with the heart pattern in the very center,) the evident care in every stitch, the embroidered signature on the bottom… the sight of the masterpiece brought both joyous hope as well as the horrible prickling pain of guilt. That orca whale was not for him, but for somebody else that was long gone and never coming back. And yet…

The daydreaming abruptly came to a standstill as Rin stormed into the room once more. Sousuke couldn’t help but sigh—he really needed to invest in a lock to that door.

“Are you taking Haru to swim lessons?”

Sousuke nodded, a ripple of confusion causing him to double take. How did he found out so quickly…?

Rin gritted his teeth, this answer causing him to practically go berserk. “Who do you think you are?!” He snapped, “What gives you the right to make that decision? You can’t do that! Our contract is _over_!”

“Rin…”

As the redhead turned to leave, Sousuke called out to stop him. It caused Rin to stand there stiffly, his back to his friend, tense and on edge as he listened to whatever the brunet was going to say.

Sousuke stood up, keeping calm as he approached the other. “When you planned this whole thing, did you think about what the worst possible outcome would be?”

Rin turned and looked up at the taller male boldly. “The worst thing that could happen is if Haru found out this was all an act.”

“No.”

“No?!”

Sousuke shook his head, “The worst thing that could happen is if ‘Makoto Tachibana’ actually fell in love with him.”

“You’re not Makoto anymore!” Rin objected.

“I’m not Sousuke Yamazaki, either.”

Rin bristled up, preparing to lash out in his anger. “Don’t talk to me like you know _shit_ about love!” He clenched his fists, “Do you even know how _serious_ Haru’s condition is?”

Despite how the other was raising his voice, Sousuke remained calm. He fixed his gaze back to the quilt upon his wall, the adoration he felt for it showing clear as day on his face. “If I were Makoto,” he said, “I would want Nanase to live a full life. …After all, everybody wants to shine, just once, in their life. Don’t they?”

 

* * *

 

Rin stormed off to find the swimming center, an angry snarl stuck on his face as he made his way to the door. His plan was to find Haru and either convince him to stop being so stupid risking his life—or pull him out of the pool with brute force if necessary. It truly pained Rin to do this, but after the scare of what happened in high school that caused Haru to almost _die_ in his arms, he wasn’t going to take any chances. Haru was too precious to him; Rin couldn’t lose him like this. His anger was mostly directed toward Sousuke, however—how dare he tempt Haru to strain himself like this?

Opening the door to the poolroom with a dramatic push, Rin’s crimson orbs took in the sight of the bustling room and the whistles and cheers and splashes that echoed and bounced on the walls. His eyes finally locked onto Haruka, and a determined yet irritated huff escaped the redhead as he began to walk towards him.

 “Har—”

However, something caused him to stop in his tracks and observe.

 The coach’s whistle blew. Diving into the water, time seemed to slow as Haruka’s figure arched and curved to slice perfectly through the pool’s surface, hardly a splash involved as he completely submerged himself into the water’s embrace. Red eyes were glued to the raven-haired male as he came up for air and began to fall into the rhythm of the freestyle stroke. Haruka looked so at home in the water, confident and more fired up than Rin had ever seen him before. In the presence of the water, Haruka truly did shine for the first time in his life.

His rhythm— his form— was the very definition of perfection, and it left Rin standing there stunned and amazed. Rin swallowed uncertainly, feeling heat suddenly crawl up his neck and onto his cheeks from awe as well as embarrassment. Snapping out of the trance his friend had put him in, he backed out of the room, resting against the wall beside the door, grumbling and thinking to himself. 

Perhaps Haru really _did_ belong here after all.

Keeping Haruka from swimming, from doing what he loved… it was just something that couldn’t be done. And yet, worry nestled deep in Rin’s heart, his intuition getting the better of him as he felt something bad was going to come of this.

“God help me,” He whimpered, back sliding down against the cold, stone wall until he was sitting down on the ground. The sigh he emitted was one of defeat. He put his face in his hands and rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “Because I certainly need it right now.”


	8. SIDE B: The End of the Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After an ENTIRE /YEAR/ of leaving you guys in suspense, probably to the point you've all forgotten this fic existed, I have returned with the FINAL INSTALLMENT!
> 
> If any of you out there were still holding out hope for this fic to resurface, I thank you for your patience! Things have been really wild this last year so I really appreciate any of you who are still dedicated enough to read.
> 
> I would highly recommend you reread the whole fic in order to understand/remember fully what is going on. There is some symbolism in here that reverts back to previous chapters and if you want the best experience that is probably your best bet!
> 
> Thank you guys so much again for reading, please let me know what you think in the comments and/or with kudos! :D This fic was a lot of fun to make and I really enjoyed hearing your guys' feedback.

“And… start!”

Haruka dived into the pool, feeling the water wrap around him in a soothingly welcoming embrace. It was so comforting, and that sensation of warmth and happiness never seemed to wane no matter how many times he swam laps. No matter how exhausted he was, no matter how difficult it was to breathe or to make his legs and arms move—

Wait… what was this?

Angling his head to gasp for air, Haruka’s rhythm was disrupted when the air would not come. Navy blue hues widened in sudden fear, his lungs immediately starting to ache as a feeling of suffocation pierced him. Both arms shot up and slammed against the water’s surface with urgency, struggling to keep afloat as he felt his legs stiffen up and refuse to move. He felt dizzy, his eyesight slowly failing as the lack of oxygen caused his vision to fog with fuzz and stars. And the bubbles of air that escaped him. With overwhelming panic causing adrenaline to kick in, it only made the need for air worsen. Any breaths that he did manage to suck in were shallow, just enough to keep him from passing out on the spot.

Sousuke was the first to hear the discord coming from the pool, and he angled his head to gaze at the scene, concern buried deep in his eyes. Nanase, was he…?!

Realization struck a sharp pang of horror in the brunet’s chest, and without even the slightest hint of hesitation he hurled himself into the water, the need to save the drowning boy cutting off anything else that could’ve possibly been on his mind.

 

* * *

 

The ground was cold, but his body was colder.

“Haru! Please, wake up!”

Haruka’s eyes flashed open at the command, though he flinched as the painful light burned at them, and he could not see. His face scrunched up in effort as he quickly sat up in a panic. All of his senses came back at once; his chest rose and fell as he took several deep breaths, relieved to find he was able to do so. His limbs felt weak, and his head light and on the verge of aching. The bitter taste of chlorine burned his throat and nose, making him cough slightly. A large hand rested on his naked shoulder, calloused yet gentle fingers pushing the hair away from his face reassuringly.

The first thing he saw when his vision finally came into focus was Makoto, who was kneeling over him with an expression dark with worry. Seeing the raven-haired male finally wake up seemed to light up his face, however, and relief was obviously sparkling in those pretty eyes.

“Thank goodness,” Sighed the brunet, but he pressed on still with concern. “What’s the matter? Are you alright?”

Haruka hesitated, still panting heavy. Uneasiness struck those glimmering green orbs like a flash of lightning once again.

“Haru…?!”

The raven-haired male clutched at his chest, feeling his heart pulse with heavy strain underneath. “I—I’m fine.” He insisted, voice hushed as he tried to even out his breaths. “I just… wasn’t timing my breathing right. I just need to rest, and I’ll… I’ll be fine.”

But the other male didn’t seem too convinced. His gaze was steady, analyzing the swimmer’s expression and the way he panted. They watched each other for a long moment, both with shock etched into their eyes as they recovered together from the scare. But finally, the brunet relented, and with a sigh his muscles lost their nervous tension and he pulled Haruka in closer, holding him there as if he was made of everything precious in the world.

“Don’t _ever_ scare me like that again.”

 

* * *

 

The house was strangely quiet that evening. Quiet and… tense. The chilled atmosphere enveloped the two boys as they tried to enjoy each other’s presence. Even Haruka, as hushed as he was by nature, found the silence unbearable. So he attempted to break the solidifying quiet before it could smother them.

“The swimming meet is tomorrow,” he told Makoto, who was sitting across from him. The brunet’s eyes seemed to perk up, and his body straightened from a lazy slouch, as if the sound of the other’s voice had awoken him. Haruka continued, standing up to demonstrate; “They might take my picture. Should I pose like this…?”

After demonstrating the tiniest of differences in body language and angle, the raven-haired male had to suffer in the air of hesitation. A hollow smile reached the other’s mouth, but he avoided Haruka’s gaze—a sure sign that he was reluctant to answer. 

“H—Hey, Haru…” His voice was deep, strained. “I’ve been thinking. Maybe…you shouldn’t go tomorrow.”

Haruka paused, unsure how to respond to this. A sense of insecurity washed over him—his one breach of support was faltering. His one shining hope was losing its inspiring glow. He physically and linguistically stumbled over himself, and he gripped the back of the sofa with a sense of despair, now trying to find another leg to stand on after such betrayal. But he was strong, and wouldn’t give up his dream so easily. “I… really scared you today, didn’t I?”

The other male nodded slowly, still avoiding Haruka’s gaze. “I finally understand how Rin feels,” He said. “The sensitivity, the nervousness…”

“This is my own choice,” Haruka told him, “I don’t want you to feel guilty about it.”

The brunet stood up slowly, approaching the raven-haired male and leaning in close, bringing a warm, gentle hand to cup his face. “I don’t feel guilty,” He insisted, voice calm, “I just—… changed my mind. I don’t want to do anything risky with you.”

Haruka seemed to melt to the touch, and he brought his own hand to hold the other’s in place, leaning into the inviting warmth. But despite this, the raven was insistent, never faltering in his decision. “The truth is, with my condition, every day is risky for me. What’s different this time is that I’m _choosing_ to take the risk. To make a dream I’ve had for a long time… finally come true.” A small smile ghosted over his face, and a spark ignited in his cerulean eyes. “I think it’s worth it.”

“Haru…”

Those smaller fingers reached for the brunet’s other hand, quickly and successfully prying the bottle of alcohol out of his grip while he was unaware. Haruka gripped the bottle’s neck tight and brought it to his face, eyes closing for a moment as he took in the burning, revitalizing sensation of booze running down his throat. The taller male realized a little too late what was happening, and with his superior strength, he tore the bottle away from Haruka with a flash of panic.

“Haru! You can’t drink this! If Rin smells the liquor on your lips when you go home, he’ll—”

“I’m not going home.”

“…Huh?”

The sparkle of mischief in those deep blue hues seemed to grow brighter. Haruka leaned forward, pressing up against the taller male and wrapping both arms loosely around his neck. He looked up at the other’s face, and the smile on his features grew lively and hopeful. “We have _another_ risky thing to do first, don’t we?”

Green eyes blinking as the offer processed, both of the brunet’s eyebrows rose up with realization. He opened his mouth to speak, to respond—to _deny_ —but before he could even get a sound out, Haruka’s soft, alluring lips had captured his own.

And as he put the bottle down gently on the table, he succumbed to the sweetest temptation of all.

 

* * *

 

That next day would prove to be the most terrifying day of all. After sharing a warm breakfast in hushed unison, Rin, Sousuke, and Haruka made their way to Kisumi’s swimming center and with both anxiety and fear they waited for the competition to begin.

Rin and Sousuke found a place to sit upon the bleachers, and the frigid feeling of the metal structure did not aid in their chilling sense of dread for what was to come. As the two of them exchanged worried glances, Rin regretted the meal he had eaten that was now threatening to come back up as his stomach danced around inside of him. But before he could voice this complaint, his heart leaped up and seized his throat as he saw Haruka approaching the pool. His race was about to begin.

“Oh god…” Rin whined, placing both hands over his eyes.

Sousuke, however, was not strong enough to look away. Sousuke listened to the referee calling for all the swimmers that were to join Haruka at this time, but nothing that he said was properly encrypted into his brain. He focused instead on watching that soft head of raven hair swish about as Haruka walked dutifully over to his starting block, a calm and brave lamb to his inevitable slaughter.

The swimmers were all aligned with their lanes when the referee barked through the microphone, instructing them to take their position. Haruka bent down and gripped the end of the starting block stiffly. He felt strong. He felt confident. But most of all, he felt absolutely _invincible._

“And… START!”

The whistle blew, and Haruka instinctively leaped in an arch and _dove_ , meeting the water like an old friend.

That was when everything fell into slow-motion.

... 

It was the most beautiful thing Sousuke had ever seen.

Haruka truly came alive in the water. His motions were swift to an almost untamable degree, digging into the water’s surface hungrily. And yet, despite these animalistic behaviors of the body, his mind seemed at ease, his expression regal. His majestically wild stroke left the sideliners that had the pleasure to witness such a feat awestruck and impressed—and Sousuke was definitely no exception.

At the sight of Haruka, Sousuke’s heart seemed to lift. Pride was swelling deep in his chest—not just pride, but an exponential adoration. He admired the young man’s strength, his physical stamina as well as the emotional and mental determination he adorned. Certainly, living such a fragile life had to be disheartening, driving one to their inevitable breaking point, but Nanase seemed to be doing well despite the… difficulties. And here he was, flying to new heights regardless the steep obstacle forever lurking in the back of his mind. You would have to be heartless to not feel a sense of pride in this man’s accomplishments.

Sousuke let his emotions get the better of him, and before he knew it, a bright smile illuminated his worry-lined face and caused his droopy, glossed eyes to perk up and sparkle. Rin looked just as ecstatic and in love—perhaps even more—and he was the first to actually open up his mouth and begin to cheer their swimmer on in his usual exuberance:

“Go! _Go,_ Haru! You’re almost there—keep pushing!”

Sousuke glanced over to the redhead male beside him, flashing him a look of confusion, followed by a soft smile of understanding. Rin had been so reluctant to let Haruka do this even just minutes ago… in fact, they both were. But here they were, completely changed and mesmerized by such a performance.

Haruka seemed to hear the cheering and pushed even more ahead than before, clawing at the water harder and propelling forward with all his might. His breathing hastened to match up with his stroke’s pace. And yet, he kept enough composure to keep the movements fluid and natural, the water gliding past his body and helping him find his way to the finish line.

The race ended with a passionate splash. As Haruka’s hands abruptly found their mark on the pool wall, many swimmers followed suit. Their times flashed onto the board above with neon digits mere milliseconds after— and that was when the roaring applause rang out and consumed the raven-haired male’s senses. 

Haruka was rendered speechless, his lungs aflame as he struggled to regain the lost air; he had used too much energy and his whole body was numb, but despite it all, he felt more alive than ever. He couldn’t see what those glowing numbers said, they were too blurry for his spinning mind to process. But… he won, didn’t he? And they were cheering for _him,_ weren’t they? So he smiled all the same—a big, genuine smile, brighter than any before it. Glancing up towards the bleachers, he searched blindly for his beloved brunet in the crowd.

_“Makoto, did you see? Just now, in that moment, my life was lit up…_

_Thank you.”_

* * *

 

Haruka blindly groped at the pool wall, nails scratching the cement and brick as he searched for a hold. He hopped for the ledge—and his arms and legs faltered, causing him to sink back into the water’s embrace. A short exhale of strain escaped him, and he grunted with effort as he tried again and received the same result.

The scene caused terror to pierce Sousuke’s heart once again.           

He couldn’t get out of the pool.

“Oi, Sousuke—?!”

Rin had called out to his friend as he stood up without a word of warning and hastily ran down towards the pool. Sousuke’s mind was racing with flustered curses and all the endless, nightmarish possibilities in which this situation could end.

By the time Sousuke got down to him, Haru had managed to crawl out of the pool. He lay there on his back, staring up at the ceiling with a dazed expression, chest rising and falling with rhythmless, wild panting. The brunet fell to his knees and propped the boy up in his arms, but immediately regretted it as he saw the frail frame beneath shiver and wince in pain.

“Haru—… Haruka!” Boundless fear strained his calls, but Haruka merely blinked up with vacant eyes that seemed to gaze through the other male’s.

Haruka smiled. He offered up his hand, which was weakly forming into a fist.

Sousuke knew what he was asking for. Makoto and Haru’s old handshake.

He moved his own fist to gently land on top of the other’s. A slow meeting of the palms, and one on the back of the hands, sliding their knuckles up each other’s forearm and back, and then finally clasping them in a natural handshake…

Haruka’s hand fell before they got to the final step.

 

* * *

 

“I’ve been in the process of selling the apartment.” Rin was saying, “There’s just too many memories.”

Sousuke didn’t say anything, unable to even make eye contact with his friend. But Rin was persistent, and with a small huff, he pushed a small box of items over the tabletop to obscure Sousuke’s view of the tablecloth.

“I thought you should have these things.” 

The larger male’s heart sunk even lower in his chest as he saw the contents of the box. They were Haruka’s old things, the objects he held dear to him. His swimming trunks, his sketchbooks… and his tape recorder.

It had been a week since Haruka’s swim competition. A week since he’d been sent off to the hospital. No word had come of his situation since, and… Rin and Sousuke both had stopped hoping for any good news. It was less painful to cast away any last treads of hope—better to be realistic and heartbroken once than hopeful and heartbroken a thousand times.

Sousuke sucked in a deep breath before finally looking up to meet Rin’s gaze. “Do you regret it? Asking me to pretend to be Tachibana?”

Rin didn’t have a clear answer. Choked up, it was his turn to look away.

 

* * *

 

Sousuke sat on the empty stage of his dimly lit room, acoustic guitar in his hands and ready to assist him birth the song that wished to pour out from his soul.  


            “I don’t fix the broken lights in this room  
            I’m not brave enough to illuminate my lonely gloom  
            The sudden silences are when I think of your smile  
            Oh, you’ve been gone for such a while… 

            Yet still I cry like a child  
            Thinking one day you’ll come back  
            Just to fill the void inside my mind  
            You’ve left me so empty,  
            I can’t leave the warmth of my memory.  
            All I do is cry like a child  
            Because I know you’ll never come back  
            In another time and space it might have worked  
            We could have loved at the start…"   
         

It was coming along so well. It was probably one of the best songs he’d ever written. But it hurt too much to sing. There was too much heart in it. Sousuke sighed, putting the guitar down gently on the floor and burying his face in his hands.

“Fuck…” He breathed, the word coming out as an anguished hiss. When his head finally reemerged from his palms, his bleary vision slowly focused on the box of Haruka’s mementos that was stacked on a nearby table. He hadn’t touched it since Rin gave it to him two weeks ago, but maybe if he looked through it… if he could listen to Haruka’s voice one more time…

He stood up too quickly and lunged for the box, snatching up the tape recorder that rested gently on top of the swimming trunks as if it was Nanase himself he was clinging to. Without hesitation, he pressed the button to hear the final recording on it.

_“People who leave don’t always just hurt others, right...? Like you, Makoto…”_

Haruka’s silky deep voice caused a sense of calm to wash over Sousuke, but not long after came a harsh stab of guilt and longing.

_“After you left, you gave me the hope to keep living. And now, that hope became reality. Didn’t it… Sousuke? Can I call you Sou—”_

Wait… what? Out of pure shock, he paused the recording trying to fumble with the device. Sousuke’s entire frame tensed, his whole body suddenly warm. Did he just say…?

He rewound the tape a little, finding it hadn’t been a mistake at all. 

 _“Can I call you Sousuke?”_ A small, innocent chuckle ensued on the other end of the tape, _“Such a bad boy. The truth is, the first time I saw you, I knew you weren’t Makoto. When Rin was making this plan, he underestimated my memory. It’s not as bad as he thought. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he was up to._

_“Now that you know I knew… you might be having doubts about my feelings during this little game. Go back to the warehouse, let down the tapestry I made for you, and turn off the lights. The answer is there.”_

Sousuke bolted without a second thought.

 

* * *

 

It was dark out, a little past two in the morning. Sousuke made it to his old warehouse in half the time it would normally had taken him, his feet fueled with the adrenaline of desperation. He flew into the room where the old tapestry was hanging on the wall—the cute stitching of an orca and a dolphin hidden in the murky shadows of twilight.

 Without any hesitation, Sousuke took down the tapestry. He gripped the fabric and started searching it intently. Frantically. Looking for some sort of sign, an answer, a prayer—

 There it was. On the back side of the work, a drawing of some kind made with glow-in-the-dark pen…

 Sousuke hung it back up, backing up to examine the illuminated answer from a distance.

_“...H-hey...! Do you remember that one gym teacher we had...”_

_“Coach Sasabe,”_

_“And every time he put this song on, he always got up and danced!”_

It was a picture Haruka had drawn of the two of them, that one night that they had been caught dancing in the street. The stars had shone just as vividly as the ones he had etched on the canvas, just as bright as the ones that gleamed within Haruka’s dark eyes…

It was a beautiful masterpiece. Just like the artist.

In his desperate frenzy tugging on the tapestry, Sousuke hadn’t noticed a small ball of candy rolling on by his feet. Where did it come from? He picked it up and examined it closely, noticing by its bright orange color what it was right away. Right, that candy that Haruka had given him that day on the beach…!

_“The taste will help you remember this moment. The moment when we became a couple.”_

This was far too much for Sousuke to handle. He crumpled to the floor, letting the candy fall from his hands as he held his face and started to sob.

“Don’t cry, you bad boy.”

Sousuke continued to cry, not thinking once to look up. He must have let the recorder on for him to be hearing Haruka’s voice again. It wasn’t helping—it only served to make him weep more at this point, but he had no energy to get up and turn it off. He lay crumpled like that for a while. He could’ve been there forever and it would not have been long enough to get over this pain in his chest.

A quiet sigh whipped around the room, and there was the sound of faint footsteps. Sousuke felt a warm, soft hand place itself reassuringly on his shoulders.

He looked up in disbelief, and what he saw knocked any ounce of breath, every last bit of energy, out of him.

That dark hair and pale skin… such beautiful pools of blue…

“I told you not to cry. You have to know I haven’t gone very far.”

Sousuke couldn’t speak. He brought a hand to the other’s face, marveling at the fact it was something he could touch and feel. Haruka brought a hand to the one that stroked at his cheek, holding it in place as he pressed into it.

He was _alive_. Haruka was real and alive and he was _here_.

“Sousuke… I—”

Sousuke flung his arms around the other boy, pulling him in to a strong hug. He buried his face into the crook of his neck and continued to shake with horrid sobs—but instead of grief, what overcame him was the relief he was holding the one he loved once again.

“Don’t _ever_ scare me like that again,” He begged, clutching Haruka tightly, like he was the most treasured possession in the whole world. “I love you, I love you, I love you, Haruka—!”

Haruka’s thin arms wrapped around the other boy in return, humming in acknowledgement. “I love you, too. Sousuke, or Makoto. … Whatever.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Your support is very much appreciated and is very encouraging to a beginning writer like myself. Feedback is always an encouragement, so please let me know what you think!


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